PR 10 ft&S 



TRIBUTES 



PROTESTANT WRITERS 



TRUTH AND BEAUTY 



CA THOLICITY. 



BY 



JAMES J. TREACY, 
Editor of "Catholic Flowers from Protestant Gardens," Etc. 



Magna est Veritas, et prevalebit. 



1 



FR. PUSTET & CO., 
50 AND 52 BARCLAY ST., I 204 VINE STREET, 

NEW YORK. CINCINNATI. 




^ 



COPYRIGHT, 1885, BY 
FR. PUSTET & CO. 



EDWARD O. JENKINS' SONS, 

Printers and StereotyPers \ 
20 North William Street, New York. 



TO 

The Right Rev. ^obias Kirby, P*P*, 

LORD BISHOP OF LITA, 
AND 

RECTOR OF THE IRISH COLLEGE, ROME, 

t$h\$ Book, 

As a slight tribute to his virtues and learning, is hutnbly dedicated 
by the Editor 

WITH PROFOUND SENTIMENTS OF VENERATION AND RESPECT. 



PREFACE. 



"How beautiful are thy tabernacles, O Jacob, 
and thy tents, O Israel ! " Thus spoke the wicked 
Balaam, when, from the mountain of Phogor, he 
looked upon the encampment of the chosen people 
of God. He had been invited to come and pro- 
nounce a curse upon the Israelites, but God con- 
strained kim to change the curse into a blessing. 

It has not unf requently happened that men, 
who went forth to labor against God, have been 
compelled to act as the unwilling and almost 
unconscious instruments of His holy designs. 
Thus we see that, Julian the Apostate, when he 
undertook the impious task of attempting to 
falsify the prophecies, by rooting up the founda- 
tions of the temple of Jerusalem, and " not leaving 
a stone upon a stone," but helped to fulfil the 
prophecies to the very letter. Thus, too, Volney, 
the French infidel, who went to Palestine, for the 
express purpose of manuf acturing evidence against 
the Christian religion, furnished, in the data, which 

(v) 



VI PREFACE. 

he afterward gave in his works, abundant material 
for some of the most powerful and convincing 
arguments in favor of Christianity. 

This idea is forced upon those, who have taken 
the pains to examine carefully the enormous num- 
ber of books, of every size and description, which 
have been poured out upon the world with no 
other purpose than that of misrepresenting the 
Church of God, when they find some magnificent 
tributes to the truth and beauty of Catholicity in 
a vast mass of the most violent vituperation and 
shameless falsehood. 

"For three centuries," says Count Joseph de 
Maistre, "history has been only one grand con- 
spiracy against truth." The suggestio falsi and 
the suppressio veri have been the grand principles 
of most of the non-Catholic historians. Whitaker, 
a Protestant, says that he blushes to admit that 
forgery has been the characteristic of the Reforma- 
tion ; and Nightingale candidly acknowledges that 
"In scarcely a single instance has the case con- 
cerning them (Catholics) been fairly stated, or the 
channels of history not been grossly, not to say 
wickedly, corrupted." It would seem that like 
Nabuchodonosor, a beast's heart had been given 
them, and that they had no idea of moral justice, 
or honor, or honesty. 



PREFACE. Vll 

But the machinations of mendacious writers 
were in vain, and only showed more strikingly 
the indef ectibility of the Church, and verified the 
predictions of the prophet Isaias that " No weapon 
formed against thee shall prosper, and every tongue 
that resisteth thee in judgment, thou shalt con- 
demn." 

While the sects that broke off from the Church, 
soon, like rotten branches, became subject to speedy 
disintegration, and fell to pieces, the Church stood, 
like a mighty, living, energizing oak of the forest, 
or rather it " stood like some majestic monument 
amid the desert of antiquity, just in its propor- 
tions, sublime in its associations, rich in the virtue 
of its saints, cemented by the blood of its martyrs, 
pouring forth for ages the unbroken series of its 
venerable hierarchy, and like the pyramid in the 
desert, only the more magnificent from the ruins 
by which it is surrounded." 

"Its, light is ' light from heaven'; it will assist 
its children through the perils of their earthly 
pilgrimage ; and like the fiery pillar of the ' chosen ' 
Israel, it will cheer the desert of their bondage, and 
light them to the land of their liberation ! " 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

The Early Jesuit Missionaries in North America, 1 

The Church in America, 6 

The Catholic Clergy, 10 

The Catacombs of Rome, 16 

The Power and Primacy of the Roman Pontiff, 21 

Vdtum pro pace, 26 

The Church the Protector and Defender of the 

Poor and Oppressed, 30 

The Triumph of the Church at the Downfall of 

the Roman Empire, 35 

Monasticism, 38 

The Influence of Religion on the Tyrolese, . 40 

The Influence of the Church upon Slavery, . 44 

The Ages of Faith, . 48 

The Crusades, 52 

Chivalry, 54 

The Sacred Structures of the Middle Ages, . 57 

Lying Church Historians, ....... 61 

The Studious Monks of the Middle Ages, . . 63 

The Great Catholic Italian Republics, ... 65 

The Debt of English to Italian Literature, . 73 

Leo the Tenth, 77 

St. Mark's, Venice, 82 

(ix) 



X CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Christianity the Saviour of Civilization, . . 92 

Holy Week in Eome, 95 

Alfred the Great, 101 

Thomas Cromwell, Earl of Essex, . . . 105 

The Trial and Execution of Mary Queen of 

Scots, 123 

Cardinal Newman, 150 

Ireland as the School of the West, . . . 161 
Elizabeth's Eeformation in Ireland, . . . 166 
The Acts Passed in the Catholic Parliament of 
James II. and those Passed by the Protestant 
Parliament of William III., .... 171 

Saint Louis, 174 

Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans, .... 180 
Death of Marie Antoinette, 186 

The French Eevolution in its Eelation with the 
Pope, 188 

The Imprisonment of Pope Pius VII., . . . 191 

Chateaubriand, 194 

Isabella of Castile, 197 

The Jesuits, . 206 

Eesignation of Charles V., 210 

The Necessity of an Infallible Guide, . . .221 
The Present State of Protestantism, . . .226 

Sacrifice of the Mass, 228 

The Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, . . 231 
A Procession of the Blessed Sacrament in the 

Cathedral of Amiens, 234 

Jacqueline, . . . . . . . . m .237 

Penance, 246 

Confession, 248 



CONTENTS. XI 

PAGE 

The Invocation of the Saints, 251 

The Symbolism of Eitual, 254 

Eeligious Memorials, 257 

The Beauties of the Catholic Worship, . . 260 
Charles Carroll of Carrollton, .... 262 
The Subversion of Liberty in Northern Europe, . 268 
The Eeligious Orders of the Eoman Catholic 
Church, 270 

Vows, 273 

Celibacy, 283 

The Ancient Monk, 287 

St. Ignatius Loyola and his Companions, . . 289 

Missionary Contrast, 322 

Hospitals and Sisterhoods, 324 

The Profession of a Nun, 336 

Divorce, 340 

The Eoman Catholic Church, 342 

The Population, Wealth, Power, Freedom, and 
Plenty of England and Ireland before the 
Eeformation, 345 



INDEX TO NAMES OF AUTHORS, ETC. 



Alison, Sir Archibald, 

PAGE 

Chateaubriand, 194 

The Influence of Religion on the Tyrolese, . . 40 

Baxley, H. Willis, 

Missionary Contrast, 322 

Bell, Henry Glassford, 

Trial and Execution of Mary Queen of Scots, . . 123 

Bell, John, 

Profession of a Nun, 336 

Holy Week in Rome, 95 

Brougham, Henry, Lord, 

Charles Carroll of Carrollton, 262 

Burke, Edmund, 

The French Revolution in its Relation with the Pope, 188 

Carlyle, Thomas, 

Death of Marie Antoinette, 186 

The Ancient Monk, 287 

(xiii) 



xiv IKDEX TO l^AMES OF AUTHOKS, ETC. 

Carter, Eev. T. Thellusson, 

PAGE 

Vows, 273 

Cobbett, William, 

The Population, Wealth, Power, Freedom, and 
Plenty of England and Ireland before the Refor- 
mation, 345 

Davy, Sir Humphry, 

Religious Memorials, 257 

De Quincey, Thomas, 

Joan of Arc, Maid of Orleans, 180 

De Wette, Wilhelm Martin Leberecht, 

The Present State of Protestantism, .... 226 

Dix, Rev. Morgan, 

Divorce, 340 

Freeman, Edward A., 

Alfred the Great, 101 

Froude, James Anthony, 

Cardinal Newman, 150 

Giles, Henry, 

The Sacred Structures of the Middle Ages, . . 57 

Grotius, Hugo, 

Votumpro pace, 26 



IKDEX TO NAMES OF AUTHOKS, ETC. XV 

GUIZOT, F., 

PAGE 

Penance, 246 

Hill, O'Dell Travers, 

Christianity the Saviour of Civilization, . . 92 

Jameson, Mrs., 

Hospitals and Sisterhoods, 324 

Studious Monks of the Middle Ages, . . 63 

Kip, Eev. William Ingraham, 

The Early Jesuit Missionaries in North America, . 1 

Laing, Samuel, 

The Catholic Clergy, 10 

Subversion of Liberty in Northern Europe, . . 268 

Law, William, 

Celibacy, ... 283 

Lecky, William Edward Hartpole, 

The Church the Protector and Defender of the Poor 

and Oppressed, 30 

The Influence of the Church upon Slavery, . . 44 

Lee, Eev. Frederick George, 

Thomas Cromwell, Earl of Essex, . . . .105 

Le Geyt, Charles J., 

Symbolism of Eitual, 254 



Xvi INDEX TO NAMES OF AUTHOES, ETC. 

Leibnitz, Gottfried Wilhelm von, 

PAGE 

The Power and Primacy of the Roman Pontiff, . 21 
Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, . . . 231 

Invocation of the Saints, 251 

Confession, 248 

The Religious Orders of the Roman Catholic Church, 270 
The Sacrifice of the Mass, ...... 228 

Loben, Count Isidore von, 

Beauties of Catholic Worship, 260 

Longfellow, H. W., 

Jacqueline, 237 

Macaulay, Lord, 

Great Catholic Italian Republics, . . . .65 
The Roman Catholic Church, 312 

McCullagh, W. Torrens, 

The Triumph of the Church at the Downfall of the 
Roman Empire, 35 

Mackintosh, Sir James, 

The Jesuits, 206 

Maitland, Rev. S. R., 

Monasticism, 33 

Mallock, William Hurrell, 

Necessity of an Inf allihle Guide, . . . .221 

Maury, Sarah Mytton, 

The Church in America, 6 



INDEX TO NAMES OF AUTHOKS, ETC. XV11 

Muller, John von, 



PAGE 



Ages of Faith, 48 

Neale, Eev. J. M., 

Procession of the Blessed Sacrament in the Cathe- 
dral of Amiens, 234 

Palgrave, Sir Francis, 

Lying Church Historians, 61 

Phillips, Charles, 

Imprisonment of Pope Pius the Seventh, . . . 191 

Prescott, William H., 

Isabella of Castile, 197 

Robertson, William, 

Chivalry, • . . ,54 

Resignation of the Emperor Charles the Fifth, . 210 

Roscoe, William, 

Leo the Tenth, 77 

Ruskin, John, 

St. Mark's, Venice, 82 

Smiles, Samuel, 

Elizabeth's Reformation in Ireland, .... 166 
The Acts passed in the Catholic Parliament of James 
the Second, and those passed in the Protestant 
Parliament of William the Third, . . ' . .171 



Xviii INDEX TO KAMES OF AUTHORS, ETC. 

Stephen, Sir James, 

PAGE 

Saint Louis, 174 

St. Ignatius Loyola and his Companions, . . . 289 

Symonds, John Addington, 

The Debt of English to Italian Literature, . . 173 

Trench, Archbishop, 

The Crusades, 52 

Withrow, Eev. W. EL, 

The Catacombs of Rome, 16 

Wordsworth, Bishop, 

Ireland as the School of the West, . . . .161 



THE EARLY JESUIT MISSIONARIES IN 
NORTH AMERICA. 



There is no page of our country's history more 
touching and romantic, than that which records 
the labors and sufferings of Jesuit Missionaries. 
In these western wilds they were the earliest pio- 
neers of civilization and faith. The wild hunter or 
the adventurous traveller, who, penetrating the 
forests, came to new and strange tribes, often 
found that years before, the disciples of Loyola 
had preceded him in that wilderness. Traditions 
of the "Black Robes" still lingered among the 
Indians. On some inoss-grown tree they pointed 
out the traces of their work, and in wonder they 
deciphered, carved side by side on its trunk, the 
emblem of our salvation and the lilies of the Bour- 
bons. Amid the snows of Hudson's Bay, among 
the woody islands and beautiful inlets of the St. 
Lawrence, by the council fires of the Hurons and 
the Algonquins, at the source of the Mississippi, 
where, first of the white men, their eyes looked 
upon the Falls of St. Anthony, and traced down 



2 TEIBUTES OF PEOTESTANT WRITEES TO 

the course of the bounding river, as it rushed on- 
ward to earn its title of " Father of Waters " — on 
the vast prairies of Illinois and Missouri, among 
the blue hills which hem in the salubrious dwell- 
ings of the Cherokees, and in the thick canebrakes 
of Louisiana — everywhere were found the members 
of the " Society of Jesus." Marquette, Joliet, Bre- 
beuf, Jogues, Lallemand, Kasles, and Marest, are 
the names which the West should ever hold in re- 
membrance. But it was only by suffering and 
trial that these early laborers won their triumphs. 
Many of them, too, were men who had stood 
high in camps and courts, and could contrast 
their desolate state in the solitary wigwam with 
the refinement and affluence which had waited on 
them in their early years. But now all these were 
gone. Home, the love of kindred, the golden ties 
of relationship, all were to be forgotten by these 
stern and high- wrought men, and they were often 
to go forth into the wilderness without an adviser 
on their way, save their God. Through long and 
sorrowful years they were obliged to "sow in 
tears" before they could "reap in joy." Every 
self-denial gathered around them which could 
wear upon the spirit and cause the heart to fail. 
Mighty forests were to be threaded on foot, and 
the great lakes of the West passed in the feeble 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 3 

bark canoe. Hunger and cold and disease were 
to be encountered, until nothing but the burning 
zeal within could keep alive the wasted and sink- 
ing frame. Most of them, too, were martyrs to 
their faith. It will be noticed in reading their 
lives how few of their number " died the common 
death of all men," or slept at last in the ground 
which their Church had consecrated. Some, like 
Jogues, and du Poisson, and Souel, sunk beneath 
the blows of the infuriated savages, and their bod- 
ies were thrown out to feed the vulture, whose 
shriek, as he flapped his wings above them, had 
been their only requiem. Others, like Brebeuf 
and Lallemand and Sanet, died at the stake, and 
their ashes "flew, no marble tells us whither," 
while the dusky sons of the forest stood around, 
and mingled their wild yells of triumph with the 
martyrs' dying prayers. Others again, like the 
aged Marquette, sinking beneath years of toil, fell 
asleep in the wilderness, and their sorrowing com- 
panions dug their graves in the green turf, where 
for many years the rude forest ranger stopped to 
invoke their names, and bow in prayer before the 
cross which marked the spot. But did these 
things stop the progress of the Jesuits ? The sons 
of Loyola never retreated. The mission they 
founded in a tribe ended only with the extinction 



4 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

of tlie tribe itself. Their lives were made up of 
fearless devotedness and self-sacrifice. Though 
sorrowing for the dead, they pressed forward at 
once to occupy their places, and if needs be, share 
their fate. " Nothing," wrote Father le Petit after 
describing the martyrdom of two of his brethren, 
"nothing has happened to these two excellent mis- 
sionaries for which they were not prepared, when 
they devoted themselves to the Indian Missions." 
If the flesh trembled, the spirit seemed never to 
falter. Each one, indeed, felt that he was " bap- 
tized for the dead," and that his own blood, poured 
out in the mighty forests of the West, would bring 
down perhaps greater blessings on those for whom 
he died, than he could win for them by the labors 
of a life. He realized that he was " appointed un- 
to death." " Ibo, et non redibo" were the pro- 
phetic words of Father Jogues, when, for the last 
time, he departed to the Mohawks. When Lalle- 
mand was bound to the stake, and for seventeen 
hours his excruciating agonies were prolonged, his 
words of encouragement to his companions were, 
" Brothers, we are made a spectacle unto the world, 
and to angels, and to men." When Marquette 
was setting out for the source of the Mississippi, 
and the friendly Indians who had known him, 
wished to turn him from his purpose by declaring, 



THE TKUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 5 

" Those distant nations never spare tlie stranger,' 5 
the calm reply of the missionary was, "I shall 
gladly lay down my life for the salvation of 
souls." And then the red sons of the wilderness 
"bowed with him in prayer, and before the simple 
cross of cedar, and among the stately groves of 
elm and maple which line the St. Lawrence, there 
rose that old chant which the aged man had been 
accustomed to hear in the distant Cathedrals of 
his own land — 

1 ' Vexilla Regis prodeunt ; 
Fulget Cruris mysterium." * 

But how little is known of all these men ! The 
history of their bravery and sufferings, touching 
as it is, has been comparatively neglected. 

Eev. William Lstgkaham Kip, 
Early Jesuit Missions in NortTi America. 



* The banner of Heaven's king advance, 
The mystery of the Cross shines forth. 

Bancroft's United States, Vol. iii., 156. 



THE CHURCH IN" AMERICA. 



And looking round in anxious and inquiring 
solicitude, for dear, unutterably dear to me is that 
America where my children's children will be 
reared, I behold, with grateful heart, provision 
made by the Supreme Regulator of human things 
against these ripening dangers ; dangers which the 
mind dares scarcely pause to look upon. A 
scheme of infinite Mercy has been divulged and 
committed to the wisdom and energy of appointed 
messengers to be fulfilled. The Clergy of the 
Catholic Church of Europe, the Heirs of the 
first Pilgrims of the Cross in the Western 
Hemisphere, seek their Inheritance ; they 
rest their claims upon the Gospel which they 
preach, upon the services which they render, and 
the example which they give ; taking neither 
purse nor scrip across the ocean, they carry with 
them the inestimable boon which maketh men 
wise unto Salvation. They have laid the founda- 
tion-stone of real education — education of the 
heart ; the formation of character, without which 

(6) 



THE TKUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 7 

liberty is licentiousness ; and compared to which 
the mere accomplishments of the mind and fingers 
are airy nothings, unsubstantial in possession and 
useless in application. In the numerous and 
crowded Catholic schools of the United States are 
taught the exercise of prayer, the practice of mor- 
ality, the laws of obedience and responsibility, and 
self-sacrifice, and moral and spiritual humility, 
and Good Woeks as well as saving faith, and 
charity, and brotherly love ; and here the strong 
hand of Discipline is felt and respected. Many 
well-judging persons of different religious persua- 
sions have assured me that the one really useful 
and corrective education is that of the Catholic 
schools and colleges. So far as I have known, 
these Seminaries are crowded not only with pu- 
pils of their own Creed, but with those of other 
Sects. And I have high official authority for say- 
ing that the ministers and missionaries of the 
Roman Catholic Church are at this moment doing 
more good for the cause of virtue and morality 
throughout the whole continent of America, than 
those of any other religious denomination what- 
ever. 

The Hierarchy of the Catholic Church in the 
United States seek not endowment ; they love 
their independence; they seek not power; they 



8 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

prize their purity ; they seek not sinecures ; they 
value their high prerogative of usefulness. And 
thus as saintly men do they pursue their steady 
way, void of offence before God and man, ap- 
proved on earth and registered in Heaven. I am 
an Episcopalian, or Protestant of the Church of 
England. But I am not, can not be blinded to the 
many excellences of the Catholic Church ; and es- 
pecially as its institutions regard America ; they 
are, beyond comparison, the best adapted to curb 
the passions of a young, impetuous, intelligent, 
generous, and high-minded Democracy ; to protect 
the religion of the Republic from annihilation ; 
to subdue the struggling and discordant interests 
of an immense territory into harmony, and to en- 
chain the sympathies of a whole people in one 
magnificent scheme of morality and devotion. 
"They shall be one fold under one Shepherd." 

The Institutions besides, of this Church, are 
themselves based upon that very equality which 
their discipline so efficiently modifies. There is 
one common law, and one alone, for all — in the 
words of the Old Testament, so admirably adapted 
to the description of the Catholic Faith: "Here 
the wicked cease from troubling, and here the 
weary are at rest ; here the prisoners rest together; 
they hear not the voice of the oppressor. The 



THE TRUTH A1S T D BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 9 

small and the great are there ; and the servant is 
free from his master. " These words can not be said 
to the same extent of any other Church whatever. 

The celibacy of the Catholic clergy is another 
great advantage in the wilds of this great conti- 
nent, and in her populous cities. No domestic or 
personal anxieties distract or lead them from their 
flock. " Desqu'un Pretre se marie, il n'est plus 
Pretre ? " observed the Marquis de Talaru to me 
one day upon the Mississippi. And I frequently 
experienced the truth of the remark. 

I yield this tribute of just and high commenda- 
tion to the professors of this faith with pleasure 
mingled with pain ; for I owe them much excuse ; 
I blush for my former weak and contemptible in- 
tolerance. I was reared in the vulgar prejudices 
of ignorance against Catholic teachers and their 
disciples : in England I knew them not ; sought 
them not ; loved them not ; but among the many 
benefits derived from my visit to America, has 
been that one of exceeding value, the acquaint- 
ance and friendship of the excellent and enlight- 
ened Bishop of New York,* who holds so high a 
place in his adopted country. 

Sarah Mytton Maury, 
■ The Statesmen of America in 1846. 

* Bishop Hughes. 
1* 



THE CATHOLIC CLERGY. 



Catholicism has certainly a much stronger hold 
over the human mind than Protestantism. The 
fact is visible and undeniable, and perhaps not un- 
accountable. The fervor of devotion among these 
Catholics, the absence of all worldly feelings in 
their religious acts, strikes every traveller who en- 
ters a Roman Catholic country abroad. They 
seem to have no reserve, no false shame, false pride 
or whatever the feeling may be, which, among us, 
Protestants, makes the individual exercise of de- 
votion private, hidden — an affair of the closet. 
Here, and everywhere in Catholic countries, you 
see well-dressed people, persons of the higher a.s 
well as of the lower orders, on their knees upon 
the pavement of the church, totally regardless of, 
and unregarded by, the crowd of passengers in the 
aisles moving to and fro. In no Protestant place 
of worship do we witness the same intense abstrac- 
tion in prayer, the unaffected devotion of mind. 
The beggar-woman comes in here and kneels down 

by the side of the princess, and evidently no f eel- 

■ do) 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 11 

ing of intrusion suggests itself in the mind of 
either. Their churches are God's houses, open 
alike to all rational creatures, without distinction 
of high or low, rich or poor. All who have a soul 
to be saved come freely to worship. 

In the Catholic Church the clergyman is more 
of a sacred character than it is possible to invest 
him with in our Protestant Church, and more cut 
off from all worldly affairs. It is very up-hill 
work in the Church of England, and still more so 
in the Church of Scotland, for the clergyman to 
impress his flock with the persuasion that he is a 
better man, and more able to instruct them, than 
any other equally pious and equally well educated 
man in the parish, whose worldly circumstances 
have given him equal opportunity and leisure to 
cultivate his mind ; and in every parish, owing to 
the diffusion of knowledge, good education, and 
religious feeling among our upper and middle 
classes, there are now such men. The Scotch coun- 
try clergyman in this generation does not, as in 
the last, stand in the position of being the only 
regularly educated, enlightened, religious man 
perhaps in his whole congregation. He has also 
the cares of a family, of a housekeeping, of a glebe 
in Scotland, of tithe in England, and, in short, the 
business and toils, the motives of action, and 



12 TEIBUTES OF PKOTESTA1NT WBITERS TO 

objects of interest that other men have. It is dif- 
ficult, or in truth impossible, in our state of soci- 
ety, to impress on his flock that he is in any way 
removed from their condition, from their failings 
or feelings ; and it would be but a delusion if he 
succeeded, for he is a human being in the same 
position with themselves, under the influences of 
the same motives and objects with themselves in 
his daily life. 

In the Roman Catholic Church it is altogether 
different, and produces a totally different result. 
The clergyman is entirely separated from individ- 
ual interests, or worldly objects of ordinary life, 
by his celibacy. This separates him from all other 
men. Be their knowledge, their education, their 
piety, what it will, they belong to the rest of man- 
kind in feelings, in interests, and motives of action, 
— he to a peculiar class. The Catholics, who 
receive the elements as transubstantiated by the 
consecration, require very naturally and properly 
that the priest should be of a sanctified class, 
removed from human impurity, contamination, or 
sensual lust, as well as from all worldly affairs, as 
far as human nature can be. 

But our Scotch clergy, placed by the Reforma- 
tion in such a totally different religious position as 
to the nature of their functions, are wrong in 



THE TEUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 13 

expecting a peculiar veneration, and in challeng- 
ing a peculiar sanctity for their order. As a sacred 
order, or class, they ceased to exist, or to have 
influence founded upon any sound religious 
grounds, when the distinction which made them a 
peculiar class in the eyes and feelings of mankind, 
the distinction in their sacramental function, and 
consequent separation in all worldly affairs be- 
tween their class and other men, ceased and was 
removed. They have an elevated, and if they will 
so apply the word, a sacred duty to perform along 
with the ordinary duties of life ; but they form no 
distinct sacred class, or corporation, like the tribe 
of Levi among the Israelites, or like the Catholic 
clergy among the Catholics, having religious du- 
ties or functions which none can perform but its 
members, and to which they are essential. 

Our clergy, especially in Scotland, have a very 
erroneous impression of the state of the Catholic 
clergy. In our country churches we often hear 
them prayed for as men wallowing in luxury, and 
sunk in gross ignorance. This is somewhat inju- 
dicious, as well as uncharitable ; for when the 
youth of their congregations, who, in this travel- 
ling age, must often come in contact abroad with 
the Catholic clergy so described, find them, in 
learning, liberal views, and genuine piety, so very 



14 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

different from the description and describers, 
there will unavoidably arise comparisons by no 
means edifying or flattering to their clerical teach- 
ers at home. 

The education of the regular clergy of the Cath- 
olic Church is, perhaps, positively higher, and, be- 
yond doubt, comparatively higher than the edu- 
cation of the Scotch clergy. Education is in real- 
ity not only not repressed, but is encouraged by 
the Catholic Church, and is a mighty instrument 
in its hands, and ably used. In every street in 
Rome, for instance, there are, at short distances, 
public primary schools for the education of the 
children of the lower and middle classes in the 
neighborhood. Rome, with a population of 158,- 
678 souls, has 372 public primary schools, with 482 
teachers, and 14,099 children attending them. Has 
Edinburgh so many public schools for the educa- 
tion of these classes % I doubt it. Berlin, with a 
population about double that of Rome, has only 
264 schools. Rome has also her university, with an 
average attendance of 660 students ; and the Papal 
States, with a population of two and one-half mil- 
lions, contain seven universities. Prussia, with a 
population of fourteen millions, has but seven. 
These are amusing statistical facts— and instruct- 
ive as well as amusing — when we remember the 



THE TEUTH AJNTT) BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 15 

boasting and glorying carried on a few years back, 
and even to this day, about the Prussian educa- 
tional system for the people, and the establishment 
of governmental schools, and enforcing by police 
regulation the school attendance of the children of 
the lower classes. The statistical fact, that Rome 
has above a hundred schools more than Berlin, for 
a population little more than half that of Berlin, 
puts to flight a world of humbug about systems of 
national education carried on by governments, and 
their moral effects on society. 

Samuel Laijto, 

Notes of a Traveller. 



THE CATACOMBS OF HOME. 



"Amoito the cultivated grounds not far from 
the city of Some," says the Christian poet Pru- 
dentius, " lies a deep crypt, with dark recesses. A 
descending path, with winding steps, leads through 
the dim turnings, and the daylight, entering by 
the mouth of the cavern, somewhat illumes the first 
part of the way. But the darkness grows deeper 
as we advance, till we meet with openings, cut in 
the roof of the passages, admitting light from 
above. On all sides spreads the densely-woven 
labyrinth of paths, branching into caverned chapels 
and sepulchral halls ; and throughout the subter- 
ranean maze, through frequent openings, penetrates 
the light." 

This description of the Catacombs in the fourth 
century is equally applicable to their general ap- 
pearance in the nineteenth. Their main features 
are unchanged, although time and decay have 
greatly impaired their structure and defaced their 
beauty These Christian cemeteries are situated 

chiefly near the great roads leading from the city, 

(16) 



THE TKUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 17 

and, for the most part, within a circle of three 
miles from the walls. From this circumstance they 
have been compared to the "encampment of a 
Christian host besieging Pagan Rome, and driv- 
ing inward its mines and trenches with an assur- 
ance of final victory." The openings of the Cata- 
combs are scattered over the Campagna, whose 
mournful desolation surrounds the city ; often 
among the mouldering mausolea that rise, like 
stranded wrecks, above the rolling sea of verdure 
of the tomb-abounding plain. On every side are 
tombs — tombs above and tombs below — the graves 
of contending races, the sepulchres of vanished 
generations : " Plena di sepoltura e la Cam- 
pagna" * 

How marvellous that beneath the remains of a 
proud pagan civilization, exist the early monu- 
ments of that power before which the myths of 
paganism faded away as the spectres of darkness 
before the rising sun, and by which the religions 
and institutions of Rome were entirely changed. 
Beneath the ruined palaces and temples, the crum- 
bling tombs and dismantled villas, of the august 
mistress of the world, we find the most interesting 
relics of early Christianity on the face of the earth. 



* Ariosto, Orlando Furioso. 



18 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

In traversing these tangled labyrinths we are 
bronght face to face with the primitive ages ; we 
are present at the worship of the infant Church ; 
we observe its rites ; we study its institutions ; 
we witness the deep emotions of the first believers 
as they commit their dead, often their martyred 
dead, to their last resting-place ; we decipher the 
touching records of their sorrow, of the holy hopes 
by which they were sustained, of " their faith tri- 
umphant over their fears," and of their assurance 
of the resurrection of the dead and the life ever- 
lasting. 

We read in the testimony of the Catacombs the 
confession of faith of the early Christians, some- 
times accompanied by the record of their persecu- 
tion, the symbols of their martyrdom, and even the 
very instruments of their torture. For in these 
halls of silence and gloom slumbers the dust of 
many of the martyrs and confessors, who sealed 
their testimony with their blood during the san- 
guinary ages of persecution ; of many of the early 
bishops and pastors of the Church, who shepherded 
the flock of Christ amid the dangers of those 
troublous times ; of many who heard the words of 
life from teachers who lived in or near the apos- 
tolic age, perhaps from the lips of the apostles 
themselves. Indeed, if we would accept ancient 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 19 

tradition, we would even believe that even the 
bodies of St. Peter and St. Paul were laid to rest 
in those hallowed crypts — a true terra sancta, in- 
ferior in sacred interest only to the rock-hewn 
sepulchre consecrated evermore by the body of 
Our Lord. 

As the pilgrim to this shrine of the primitive 
faith visits these chambers of silence and gloom, 
accompanied by a serge-clad, sandaled monk, he 
seems like the Tuscan poet wandering through the 
realms of darkness with his shadowy guide. 

" Ora sen' va per am segreto calle 
Tra 1' muro della terra." * 

His footsteps echo strangely down the distant 
passages and hollow vaults, dying gradually away 
in the solemn stillness of this valley of the shadow 
of death. The graves yawn weirdly as he passes, 
torch in hand. The flame struggles feebly with the 
thickening darkness, vaguely revealing the un- 
fleshed skeletons on either side, till its redness 
fades to sickly white. Deep mysterious shadows 
crouch around, and the dim perspective, lined with 
the sepulchral niches of the silent community of 
the dead, stretches on in an apparently unending 



* " And now through narrow, gloomy paths we go, 
'Tween walls of earth and tombs." — Inferno. 



20 TBIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS. 

vista. The vast extent and population of this great 
necropolis overwhelm the imagination. Almost ap- 
palling in its awe and solemnity is the sudden 
transition from the busy city of the living to the 
silent city of the dead ; from the golden glory of 
the Italian sunlight to the funereal gloom of these 
sombre vaults. The sacred influence of the place 
subdues the soul to tender emotions. The fading 
pictures on the walls and the pious epitaphs of the 
departed breathe on every side an atmosphere of 
faith and hope. We speak with bated breath and 
in whispered tones, and thought is busy with the 
past. It is impossible not to feel strangely moved, 
while gazing on the crumbling relics of mortality 
committed years ago, with pious care and many 
tears, to their last, long rest. In this silent city of 
the dead we are surrounded by a " mighty cloud of 
witnesses," " a multitude which no man can num- 
ber," whose names, unrecorded on earth, are writ- 
ten in the Book of Life. " It is scarcely known," 
says Prudentius, "how full Rome is of buried 
saints — how richly her soil abounds in holy sepul- 
chres." 

Rev. W. H. Withrow, 

Catacombs of Rome. 



THE POWER AND PRIMACY OF THE 
ROMAN PONTIFF. 



The Sacrament of Orders, or of the Ecclesiasti- 
cal Hierarchy, is that by which the ecclesiastical 
or spiritual office or power, distinguished into its 
several grades, is conferred on certain individuals, 
whose ministry God uses for the purpose of dis- 
pensing the grace of His Sacraments, and of in- 
structing, ruling, and retaining others in the unity 
of the faith and the obedience of charity, super- 
adding thereto a certain power of jurisdiction, 
which is comprehended chiefly in the use of the 
keys. To the Hierarchy of Pastors of the Church, 
belong, not only Priesthood and its preparatory 
grades, but also Episcopacy, and even the Primacy 
of the Sovereign Pontiff, all of wTiich we must be- 
lieve to be of divine right \ As Priests are ordain- 
ed by a Bishop, the Bishop, and especially that 
Bishop to whom the care of the entire Church is 
committed, has power to moderate and limit the 
office of the Priest, so that in certain cases he is re- 
strained from exercising the power of the keys, not 

(21) 



22 TEIBUTES OF PEOTESTA^T WEITEES TO 

only lawfully, but even validly. Moreover, the 
Bishop, and especially the Bishop who is called 
(Ecumenical, and who represents the eat ire 
Churchy has the power of excommunicating and 
depriving of the grace of the Sacraments, of bind- 
ing and retaining sins, of loosing and restoring 
again. For it is not merely that voluntary juris- 
diction which belongs to the Priest in the confes- 
sional, that is contained under the power of the 
keys ; but the Church, moreover, has power to 
proceed against the unwilling ; and he " toho does 
not hear the Church" and does not, so far as is 
consistent with the salvation of his soul, keep her 
commandments, " should ~be held as the heathen 
and the publican" ; and as the sentence on earth 
is regularly confirmed by that of heaven, such a 
man draws on himself, at the peril of his own soul, 
the weight of ecclesiastical authority, to which 
God himself lends that which is last and highest 
in all jurisdiction — execution. 

In order, however, that the power of the Hierar- 
chy may be better understood, we must recollect 
that every state and commonwealth, and therefore 
the commonwealth of the Church, should be con- 
sidered as a civil body, or one moral person. For 
there is this difference between an assembly of 
many and one body : that an assembly, of itself, 



THE TEUTH AKD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 23 

does not form a single person out of many individ- 
uals ; whereas a body constitutes a person, to 
which person may belong various properties and 
rights, distinct from the rights of the individuals ; 
whence it is that the right of a body, or college, is 
vested in one individual, while that of an assembly 
is necessarily in the hands of many. !N T ow it is of 
the nature of a person, whether natural or moral, 
to have a will, in order that its wishes may be 
known. Hence, if the form of government is a 
monarchy, the will of the monarch is the will of 
the state ; but if it be a polycracy, we regard as 
the will of the state the will of some College or 
Council, whether this consists of a certain number 
of the citizens, or of them all, ascertained either by 
the number of votes, or by certain other conditions. 
Since, therefore, our merciful and sovereign God 
has established His Church on earth, as a sacred 
" city placed upon a mountain" His immaculate 
spouse, and the interpreter of His will, — and has so 
earnestly commended the universal maintenance 
of her unity in the bonds of love, and has com- 
manded that she should be heard by all who 
would not be esteemed " as the heathen and the 
publican "; it follows that He must have appoint- 
ed some mode by which the will of the Church, 
the interpreter of th'b Divine will, could be known. 



24 TRIBUTES OP PROTESTAJSTT WRITERS TO 

What this mode is, was pointed out by the Apos- 
tles, who, in the beginning, represented the body 
of the Church. For at the council which was 
held in Jerusalem, in explaining their opinion, 
they use the words, " It hath seemed good to the 
Holy Ghost and to us" Nor did this privilege of 
the assistance of the Holy Ghost cease in the 
Church with the death of the Apostles ; it is to 
endure " to the consummation of the world" and 
has been propagated throughout the whole body 
of the Church by the Bishops, as successors of the 
Apostles. Now as, from the impossibility of the 
Bishops frequently leaving the people over whom 
they are placed, it is not possible to hold a council 
continually, or even frequently, while at the same 
time the person of the Church must always live 
and subsist, in order that its will may be ascer- 
tained, it was a necessary consequence, by the 
Divine law itself, insinuated in Christ's most mem- 
orable words to Peter (when He committed to him 
specially the keys of the kingdom of heaven), as 
well as when He thrice emphatically commanded 
him to "feed His sheep" and uniformly believed 
in the Church, that one among the Apostles, and 
the successor of this one among the Bishops, was 
invested with pre-eminent power ; in order that by 
him, as the visible centre of unity, the body of the 



THE TKUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 25 

Church might be bound together ; the common 
necessities be provided for ; a council, if necessary, 
be convoked, and when convoked, directed ; and 
that, in the interval between councils, provision 
might be made lest the commonwealth of the 
faithful sustain any injury. And as the ancients 
unanimously attest that the Apostle Peter govern- 
ed the Church, suffered martyrdom, and appoint- 
ed his successor, in the city of Rome, the capital 
of the world ; and as no other Bishop has ever 
been recognized under this relation, we justly ac- 
knowledge the Bishop of Rome to be the chief of 
all the rest. This, at least, therefore, mast be 
held as certain, that in all things which do not 
admit the delay necessary for the convocation 
of a general council, the power of the chief of the 
Bishops, or Sovereign Pontiff, is, during the in- 
terval, the same as that of the whole Church. 
We are to obey the Sovereign Pontiff as the only 
Vicar of God on earth. 

Gottfried Wilhelm yok Leibkitz, 
Systema Theologicum. 

2 



VOTUM PRO PACE. 



Nurtttked from my youth in sacred literature, 
and taught by masters not holding the same 
opinions on divine things, it was easy for me to see 
the will of Christ, that all who desired to bear His 
name, and through Him attain blessedness, should 
be one among themselves as He is one with the 
Father (John 17). And that, not one in spirit 
merely, but likewise in a communion which can 
be seen, and is specially seen in the bonds of gov- 
ernment and the participation of sacraments. For 
the Church is one, or ought to be, a certain Body 
(Rom. xii.; Ephes. i. 4, 5 ; Colos. i.); which Body, 
Christ, the Head given to it by God, has willed to 
be jointed together by the ligaments of various 
offices (Ephes. iv. 11); and individuals to be bap- 
tized in it, that they may become one body (1 
Cor. xii.). And they are to feed. on one con- 
secrated Bread, that they may grow more and 
more unto each other, and show themselves to 
be one Body (1 Cor. x. 17). I was strangely cap- 
tivated by the beauty of that ancient Church, on 
whose Catholicity there is no controversy ; when 

(26) 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 27 

all Christians, save fragments torn off, and there- 
fore easy to be recognized, were knit together by 
the intercourse of ecclesiastical letters from the 
Rhine to Africa and Egypt, from the British ocean 
to the Euphrates, or beyond. I saw that it was 
for this very reason that schisms and separations 
in that conspicuous Body were severally inter- 
dicted (Horn, xvi. 17; 1 Cor. i. 10, 11; iii. 3; xi. 
18; xii. 25; Gal. v. 20)"; and that this was the 
special subject in the letters of Paul, and Clement 
of Rome to the Corinthians, and in many writings 
of Optatus of Milan, and Augustine against the 
Donatists. Moreover, I began to reflect that not 
only my ancestors, but those of many others, had 
been pious men, hating superstition and wicked- 
ness ; men who brought up their families well, in 
the worship of God and the love of their neigh 
bor ; whom I had ever deemed to have departed 
from this life in a state of salvation ; nor had 
Francis Junius taught me otherwise — a man of 
such fair and mild opinions, that the more heated 
Protestants disliked and abused him. I was also 
aware from the report of my elders, and the his- 
tories I had read, that men afterwards arose who 
were altogether for deserting the Church in which 
our ancestors had been ; and who not only them- 
selves deserted it — some even before they were ex- 



28 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

communicated— but made new assemblies too, 
which they were for calling Churches, made new 
presbyteries in them, taught and administered 
sacraments, and that in many places against the 
edicts of kings and bishops, and alleged, in de- 
fence of this, that they must obey God rather than 
man, just as if they had had such a charge from 
Heaven as the Apostles had. Nor had they 
halted in their daring at this point ; but traducing 
kings as idolaters and slaves of the Pope, had 
stirred up the mob to armed meetings, seditions 
against the magistrates, breaking of the images of 
saints, of holy tables and shrines, and finally to 
civil war and open rebellion. I saw that much 
Christian blood had thus been everywhere shed, 
that morals, looking generally, especially where 
they had prospered, had so far from improved, 
that long wars had made men savage, and the con- 
tact of foreign vices infected them. My sorrow at 
these things increasing with my years, I began to 
reflect myself, and consider with others on the 
cause of calamities so great. The seceders, to 
cover their own deed, stoutly maintained that the 
doctrine of the Church united with the clvief See 
had been corrupted by many heresies, and by 
idolatry. This was the occasion of my inquiring 
into the dogmas of that Church, of reading the 
books written on both sides, reading also what has 



THE TKUTH AKD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 29 

been written of the present state and doctrine of 
the Church in Greece, and of those joined to it in 
Asia and Egypt. 

I found that the East held the same dogmas 
which had been defined in the West by universal 
councils ; and that their judgments agreed on the 
government of the Church (save the contro- 
versies with the Pope), and on the rites of the 
Sacraments unbrokenly handed down. I went 
further, and chose to read the chief writers of 
ancient times, as well Greek as Latin, among 
whom are Gauls and Africans; and those of the 
three next centuries I read both all and often ; 
but the later ones, as much as my occupations 
and circumstances allowed, especially Chrysos- 
tom and Jerome, because I saw that they were 
considered happier than the rest in the exposition 
of the Holy Scriptures. Applying to these writ- 
ings the rules of Vincentius of Lerins, which I saw 
to be approved by the most learned, I deduced 
what were the points which had been everywhere, 
always, and perseveringly handed down, by the 
testimony of the ancients, and by the traces of 
them remaining to the present day. I saw that 
these remained in that Church which is bound to 

the Roman. 

Hugo Gkotius, 

Votum pro pace Ecclesiastica. 



THE CHUECH THE PROTECTOR AND DE- 
FENDER OF THE POOR AND OP- 
PRESSED. 



The enthusiasm of charity, manifested in the 
Church, speedily attracted the attention of the 
Pagans. The ridicule of Lucian, and the vain 
effort of Julian to produce a rival system of char- 
ity within the limits of Paganism, emphatically 
attested both its pre-eminence and its catholicity. 
During the pestilences that desolated Carthage in 
a.d. 326, and Alexandria in the reigns of Gal- 
lienus and of Maximian, while the Pagans fled 
panic-stricken from the contagion, the Christians 
extorted the admiration of their fellow-countrymen 
by the courage with which they rallied around 
their bishops, consoled the last hours of the suf- 
ferers, and buried the abandoned dead. In the 
rapid increase of pauperism arising from the eman- 
cipation of numerous slaves, their charity found 
free scope for action, and its resources were soon 
taxed to the utmost by the horrors of the barbarian 
invasions. The conquest of Africa by Genseric, 
deprived Italy of the supply of corn upon which 

(30) 



THE TKUTH A1STD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 31 

it almost wholly depended, arrested the gratuitous 
distribution by which the Roman poor were main- 
ly supported, and produced all over the land the 
most appalling calamities. The history of Italy 
became one monotonous tale of famine and pesti- 
lence, of starving populations and ruined cities. 
But everywhere amid this chaos of dissolution we 
may detect the majestic form of the Christian 
priest mediating between the hostile forces, strain- 
ing every nerve to lighten the calamities around 
him. When the Imperial city was captured and 
plundered by the hosts of Alaric, a Christian 
church remained a secure sanctuary, which neither 
the passions nor the avarice of the Goths trans- 
gressed. When a fiercer than Alaric had marked 
out Rome for his prey, the Pope St. Leo, arrayed 
in his sacerdotal robes, confronted the victorious 
Hun, as the ambassador of his fellow-countrymen, 
and Attila, overpowered by religious awe, turned 
aside in his course. When, twelve years later, Rome 
lay at the mercy of Genseric, the same Pope inter- 
posed with the Vandal conqueror, and obtained 
from him a partial cessation of the massacre. The 
Archdeacon Pelagius interceded with similar hu- 
manity and similar success, when Rome had been 
captured by Totila. In Gaul, Troyes is said to have 
been saved from destruction by the influence of St. 



32 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

Lupus, and Orleans by the influence of St. Agnan. 
In Britain an invasion of the Picts was averted by St. 
Germain of Auxerrois. The relations of rulers to 
their subjects, and of tribunals to the poor, were 
modified by the same intervention. When An- 
tioch was threatened with destruction on account 
of its rebellion against Theodosius, the anchorites 
poured forth from the neighboring deserts to in- 
tercede with the ministers of the emperor, while the 
Archbishop Flavian went himself as a suppliant to 
Rome. St. Ambrose imposed public penance on 
Theodosius, on account of the massacre of Thessa- 
lonica. Synesius excommunicated for his oppression 
a governor named Andronicus ; and two French 
Councils, in the sixth century, imposed the same 
penalty on all great men who arbitrarily ejected 
the poor. St. Abraham, St. Epiphanius, and St. 
Basil are all said to have obtained the remission or 
reduction of oppressive imposts. To provide for the 
interest of the widows and orphans was part of 
the ecclesiastical duty, and a Council of Macon 
anathematized any ruler who brought them to trial 
without first apprising the bishop of the diocese. 
A Council of Toledo, in the fifth century, threat- 
ened with excommunication all who robbed priests, 
monks, or poor men, or refused to listen to their 
expostulations. As time rolled on, charity as- 



THE TRUTH AKD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 33 

sumed many forms, and every monastery became a 
centre from wliicli it radiated. By the monks the 
nobles were overawed, the poor protected, the sick 
tended, travellers sheltered, prisoners ransomed, 
the remotest spheres of suffering explored. 

There is no fact of which an historian becomes 
more speedily or more painfully conscious than 
the great difference between the importance and 
the dramatic interest of the subjects he treats. 
Wars or massacres, the horrors of martyrdom or 
the splendors of individual prowess, are suscep- 
tible of such brilliant coloring, that with but little 
literary skill they can be so portrayed that their 
importance is adequately realized, and they appeal 
to the emotions of the reader. But this vast and 
unostentatious movement of charity, operating in 
the village hamlet and in the lonely hospital, 
staunching the widow's tears, and following all the 
windings of the poor man's griefs, presents few 
features the imagination can grasp, and leaves no 
deep impression upon the mind. The greatest 
things are often those which are most imperfectly 
realized ; and surely no achievements of the Chris- 
tian Church are more truly great than those which 
have been effected in the sphere of charity. For 
the first time in the history of mankind, it has in- 
spired many thousands of men and women, at the 



34 TEIBUTES OF PEOTESTANT WEITEES. 

sacrifice of all worldly interests, and often under 
circumstances of extreme discomfort or danger, to 
devote their entire lives to the single object of 
assuaging the sufferings of humanity. 

William Edwaed Haetpole Lecky, 

History of European Morals. 



THE TRIUMPH OF THE CHURCH AT THE 
DOWNFALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE. 



'Twas the solemnest epoch, in the lifetime of 
man — that, when the civilization of two thousand 
years, unionized into one gigantic fabric by the 
power of Rome, so that the whole trust and worth 
of nations was by compulsion made to rest there- 
on, began visibly to break down. 'Twas the sul- 
triest hour of time. The sweat-drops of terror fell, 
and made echo in their fall. The loosing of the 
chariot-steeds of barbarism was heard afar, and 
men knew not what it meant, for they had never 
heard the like before. Vague feelings of their 
helplessness and danger — vague forebodings of un- 
known evils, overcast their sapless hearts. They 
had time to fly, but whither? They had hands 
and brains, but the hands were nerveless, and " the 
formidable pilum, which had subdued the world, 
dropt from them," — the brains were crammed full 
of controversial logic, so that there was no room in 
them for manly thoughts. Men had been bent and 
bowed for centuries to believe the lie, that one 

(35) 



36 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTAIST WRITERS TO 

arch of power is enough for all Mankind — that it is 
safest and best for many nations to trust all to one. 
All rivalry or competition was not only dead, but 
it was a thing forgotten ; it had come to be a rude, 
uncivilized, unenlightened thing. There stood but 
one world-spanning arch — but one only tolerated 

or known bridge over anarchy Downward 

it totters — crumbling down, with its multitudinous 
load. They sink wailing ; sink with whatever they 
possess of valuables — valuables as they called them ; 
and doubtless dragging with them much also of 
true value into the unwritten grave. Yet is not 
all lost. Christianity remained a refuge for the 
drowning civilization of antiquity. The Church 
sank not. Since the unannalled days of the first 
flood, when the primitive science, art, and knowledge 
of mankind were destroyed, there had been nought 
within comparison so appalling to this unsheltered 
world as this Scythian tide ; and, as in the elder 
tempest, there was no salvation but in an ark of 
safety of no human providence or contriving. The 
Church alone outrode the storm. When its surg- 
ing crest of ruin rose most high, the cross rose 
with it, and above it still. The barbarians em- 
braced Christianity ; and when the vanquished 
felt that between them and their conquerors was 
one tie — that of a common faith — they said within 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 37 

themselves, "Surely the bitterness of death is 
passed." It was the Church that saved whatever 
could be rescued from the universal wreck : in her 
sanctuary were preserved for succeeding times, the 
laws, and a few hastily snatched up records of a 
drowned antiquity. On, on, with force as if for- 
ever, the gush of Scythia and Burgundia roars. 
All political power is overwhelmed in its weltering 
wave. The Church alone sinks not. It alone pre- 
sumes to beard and to reprove — to rebuke and to 
restrain its rage. Immortal faith saves human 
hope from dying. All this is assuredly no scoffing 
matter. Sceptic, sarcastic Gibbon was no man to 
write its history ; when next it shall be written, 
pray that it fall into far different hands. Can we 
imagine anything so crushing of all hope of prog- 
ress, as the state of things that would have been, 
had antiquity been entirely lost? Can we con- 
ceive a more exalting proof of a superintending 
wisdom in the affairs of men, than the provision 
whereby religion was made to guard that perilled 
treasure ? 

W. TORRENS McCULLAOH, 

The Use and Study of History. 



MONASTICISM. 



It is quite impossible to touch the subject of 
Monasticism without rubbing off some of the dirt 
which has been heaped upon it. It is impossible 
to get even a superficial knowledge of the mediae- 
val history of Europe, without seeing how greatly 
the world of that period was indebted to the 
Monastic Orders ; as a quiet and religious refuge 
for helpless infancy and old age, a shelter of re- 
spectful sympathy for the orphan maiden and the 
desolate widow — as central points whence agricul- 
ture was spread over bleak hills, and barren downs, 
and marshy plains, and dealt its bread to millions 
perishing with hunger and its pestilential train — 
as repositories of the learning which then was, and 
the well-springs for the learning which was to be — 
as nurseries of art and science, giving the stimulus, 
the means, and the reward to invention, and aggre- 
gating around them every head that could devise, 
and every hand that could execute — as the nucleus 
of the city which in after-days of pride should 
crown its palaces and bulwarks with the towering 
cross of its cathedral. 

(38) 



THE TRUTH AIND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 39 

This, I think, no man can deny. I believe it is 
true, and I love to think of it. I hope that I see 
the good hand of God in it, and the visible trace 
of His mercy that is over all His works. But if it 
is only a dream, however grateful, I shall be glad 
to be awakened from it ; not indeed by the yelling 
of illiterate agitators, but by a quiet and sober 
proof that I have misunderstood the matter. In 
the meantime, let me thankfully believe that 
thousands of the persons at whom Robertson and 
Jortin and other such very miserable second-hand 
writers, have sneered, were men of enlarged minds, 
purified affections, and holy lives — that they were 
justly reverenced by men — and, above all, favor- 
ably accepted by God, and distinguished by the 
highest honor which He vouchsafes to those whom 
He has called into existence, that of being the 
channels of His love and mercy to their fellow- 
creatures. 

Rev. S. R. Maitlakd, 

Dark Ages. 



THE INFLUENCE OF RELIGION ON 
THE TYROLESE. 



Pekhaps the most remarkable feature in the 
character of the Tyrolese, is their uniform Piety, 
a feeling which is nowhere so universally diffused 
as among their sequestered valleys. Chapels are 
built almost at every half mile on the principal 
roads, in which the passenger may perform his de- 
votions, or which may awaken the thoughtless 
mind to a recollection of its religious duties. Even 
in the higher parts of the mountains, where hardly 
any vestiges of human cultivation are to be found, 
in the depth of the untrodden forests, or on the 
summit of seemingly inaccessible cliffs, the sym- 
bols of devotion are to be found, and the cross 
rises everywhere amidst the wilderness as if to 
mark the triumph of Christianity over the greatest 
obstacles of nature. 

In ancient times, we are informed, these moun- 
tains were inhabited by the Rlisetians, the fiercest 
and most barbarous of the tribes, who dwelt in the 
fastnesses of the mountains, and of whose savage 

(40) 



THE TEUTH AXD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 41 

manners Livy lias given so striking an account in 
his description of Hannibal's passage of the Alps. 
Many Roman legions were impeded in their prog- 
ress, or thinned of their numbers, by these cruel 
barbarians ; and even after they were reduced to 
subjection, by the expedition of Drusus, it was 
still esteemed a service of the utmost danger to 
leave the high-road, or explore the remote recesses 
of the country. 

What is it, then, which has wrought so wonder- 
ful a change in the manners, the habits, and the 
condition of the inhabitants of those desolate 
regions ? What is it which has spread cultivation 
through wastes, deemed in ancient times inaccessi- 
ble to human improvement, and humanized the 
manners of a people remarkable only, under the 
Roman swav, for the ferocity and barbarism of 
their institutions \ From what cause has it hap- 
pened that those savage mountaineers, who resisted 
all the arts of civilization by which the Romans 
established their sway over mankind, and continued, 
even to the overthrow of the empire, impervious to 
all the efforts of ancient improvement, should, in 
later times, have so entirely changed their character, 
and have appeared, even from the first dawn of 
modern civilization, mild and humane in their 
character and manners 1 From what but from the 



42 TKIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WEITEBS TO 

influence of Religion — of that religion which 
calmed the savage feeling of the human mind, and 
spread its beneficial influence among the remotest 
habitations of men ; and which prompted its dis- 
ciples to leave the luxuries and comforts of south- 
ern climates, to diffuse knowledge and humanity 
through inhospitable realms, and spread, even 
amidst the regions of winter and desolation, the 
light and blessings of a spiritual faith. 

Universally it has been observed throughout the 
whole extent of the Alps, that the earliest vestiges 
of civilization, and the first traces of order and 
industry which appeared after the overthrow of 
the Roman empire, were to be found in the imme- 
diate neighborhood of the religious establish- 
ments ; and it is to the unceasing efforts of the 
clergy, during the centuries of barbarism which 
followed that event, that the judicious historian of 
Switzerland ascribes the early civilization and hu- 
mane disposition of the Helvetic tribes. We would 
not, perhaps, be inclined to credit the accounts of 
the heroic sacrifices which were then made by num- 
bers of great and good men who devoted them- 
selves to the conversion of the Alpine tribes, did 
not their institutions remain to this day as a monu- 
ment of their virtue ; and did we not still see a 
number of benevolent men who seclude themselves 



THE TBUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 43 

from the worlds and dwell in the regions of per- 
petual snow, in the hope of rescuing a few indi- 
viduals from a miserable death. When the travel- 
ler on the summit of the St. Bernard reads the 
warm and touching expressions of gratitude with 
which the Roman travellers recorded their grati- 
tude for having escaped the dangers of the pass, 
even in the days of Adrian and the Antonines, and 
reflects on the perfect safety with which he can 
now traverse the remotest recesses of the Alps, he 
will think with thankfulness of the religion by 
which this wonderful change has been effected, 
and with veneration of the saint whose name has 
for a thousand years been affixed to the pass where 
his influence first reclaimed the people from their 
barbarous life. 

Sir Archibald Alison, 

Miscellaneous Essays. 



THE INFLUENCE OF THE CHURCH UPON 
SLAVERY. 



While Christianity broke down the contempt 
with which the master had regarded his slaves, and 
planted among the latter a principle of moral re- 
generation which expanded in no other sphere 
with an equal perfection, its action in procuring 
the freedom of the slave was unceasing. The law 
of Constantine, which placed the ceremony under 
the superintendence of the clergy, and the many 
laws that gave special facilities of manumission to 
those who desired to enter the monasteries or the 
priesthood, symbolized the religious character the 
act had assumed. 

It was celebrated on Church festivals, especially 
on Easter. St. Melania was said to have emanci- 
pated 8,000 slaves ; St. Ovidius, a rich martyr of 
Gaul, 5,000 ; Chromatius, a Roman prefect under 
Diocletian, 1,400 ; Hermes, a prefect in the reign 
of Trajan, 1,250 ; Pope St. Gregory, and many of 
the clergy at Hippo, under the rule of St. Augus- 
tine, and great numbers of private individuals, 

(44) 



THE TKUTH A1NTD EEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 45 

freed tlieir slaves as an act of piety. It became 
customary to do so on occasions of national or per- 
sonal thanksgiving, on recovery from sickness, on 
the birth of a child, at the hour of death, and 
above all, in testamentary bequests. Numerous 
charters and epitaphs still record the gift of liberty 
to slaves throughout the middle ages. In the 
thirteenth century, when there were no slaves 
to emancipate in France, it was usual in many 
churches to release caged pigeons on the ecclesi- 
astical festivals, in memory of the ancient charity, 
and that prisoners might still be freed in the name 
of Christ. 

Closely connected with the influence of the 
Church in destroying hereditary slavery, was its 
influence in redeeming captives from servitude. 
In no other form of charity was its beneficial char- 
acter more continually and more splendidly dis- 
played. During the long and dreary trials of the 
barbarian invasions, when the whole structure of 
society was dislocated, when vast districts and 
mighty cities were in a few months almost depopu- 
lated, and when the flower of the youth of Italy 
were mowed down by the sword or carried away 
into captivity, the bishops never desisted from 
tlieir efforts to alleviate the sufferings of the pris- 
oners. St. Ambrose, disregarding the outcries of 



46 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

the Arians, who denounced his act as atrocious 
sacrilege, sold the rich church ornaments of Milan 
to rescue some captives who had fallen into the 
hands of the Goths, and this practice — which was 
afterward formally sanctioned by St. Gregory the 
Great — became speedily general. 

When the Roman army had captured, but re- 
fused to support, seven thousand Persian prisoners, 
Acacius, Bishop of Amida, undeterred by the bitter 
hostility of the Persians to Christianity, sold all 
the rich church ornaments of his diocese, rescued 
the unbelieving prisoners, and sent them back un- 
harmed to their king. During the horrors of the 
Vandal invasion, Deogratias, Bishop of Carthage, 
took a similar step to ransom the Roman prisoners. 
St. Augustine, St. Gregory the Great, St. Csesarius 
of Aries, St. Exuperius of Toulouse, St. Hilary, 
St. Remi, all melted down or sold their church 
vases to free prisoners. St. Cyprian sent a large 
sum for the same purpose to the Bishop of STi- 
comedia. St. Epiphanius and St. Avitus, in con- 
junction with a rich Gaulish lady named Syagria, 
are said to have rescued thousands. St. Eloi de- 
voted to this object his entire fortune. St. Pau- 
linus of Kola displayed a similar generosity. 
When, long afterward, the Mohammedan con- 
quests in a measure reproduced the calamities of 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 47 

the barbarian invasions, the same unwearied char- 
ity was displayed. The Trinitarian monks, found- 
ed by John of Matha, in the twelfth century, were 
devoted to the release of Christian captives, and 
another society was founded with the same object 
by Peter Nolasco, in the following century. 

William Edward Hartpole Lecky, 
History of European Morals. 



THE AGES OF FAITH. 



Those were brilliant and glorious times, when 
Europe formed one Christian country, when one 
Christendom inhabited this civilized portion of 
the globe ; and one common interest bound to- 
gether the most remote provinces of this widely- 
extended spiritual empire. Without great secu- 
lar possessions, one head guided and united the 
great political powers. A numerous corporation, 
to which every one had access, stood in subordina- 
tion to this head, and executed his mandates, and 
zealously strove to consolidate his power. Every 
member of this order was universally respected. 

A filial confidence attached men to their in- 
structions. . How serenely could each one perform 
his daily task, when by these holy men a secure 
futurity was prepared for him, and every trans- 
gression was forgiven, and every dark passage of 
life was blotted out and effaced. They were the 
experienced pilots on the great unknown sea, un- 
der whose guidance we might safely disregard all 
storms, and confidently expect a secure landing on 

the coast of our true country. 

(48) 



THE TKTTTH A^B BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 49 

The most savage, impetuous passions were com- 
pelled to bend with, awe and submission to their 
words. Peace went out from them. They preach- 
ed nothing but love for the holy marvellous Vir- 
gin of Christianity, who, endowed with heavenly 
power, was prepared to rescue every believer from 
the most fearful dangers. They spoke of long-de- 
parted men of God, who, by their attachment and 
fidelity to that blessed mother and her divine child, 
had withstood the temptations of the world, had 
attained unto heavenly honors, and were now be- 
come tutelary and beneficent powers to their breth- 
ren on earth, willing helpers in their wants, inter- 
cessors for human frailty, and efficacious friends 
to humanity at the throne of God. With what 
serenity of mind did men leave the beautiful as- 
semblies in those mysterious churches, which were 
adorned with heart-stirring pictures, filled with 
the sweetest odors, and enlivened by a holy and 
exalting music. In them were gratefully preserved, 
in costly vessels, the sacred relics of those vener- 
able servants of God. And in these churches, too, 
glorious signs and miracles attested as well the 
efficacious beneficence of these happy saints, as the 
Divine goodness and omnipotence. In the same 
way as tender souls preserve locks of hair, or auto- 
graphs of their departed loves, and nourish there- 



50 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

by the sweet flame of affection, down to the re- 
uniting hour of death ; so men then gathered with 
pious assiduity whatever belonged to these holy 
souls, and every one esteemed himself happy, who 
could possess, or even touch, such consoling relics. 
Here and there the grace of heaven lighted down 
on some favored image • or tombstone. Thither 
men flocked from all countries to proffer their fair 
donations, and brought back in return those celes- 
tial gifts — peace of mind, and health of body. 

This powerful but pacific society zealously 
sought to make all men participators in its beauti- 
ful faith, and sent forth its missionaries to an- 
nounce everywhere the gospel of life, and make 
the kingdom of heaven the only kingdom in this 
world. 

At the Court of the Head of the Church, the 
most prudent and most venerable men in Europe 
were assembled. The destroyed Jerusalem had 
avenged herself, and Rome had become Jerusalem 
— the holy abode of Grod's government on earth. 
Princes submitted their disputes to the arbitration 
of the common Father of Christendom, willingly 
laid down at his feet their crowns and their regal 
pomp, and esteemed it a glory to become members 
of the great clerical fraternity, and pass the even- 
ing of their lives in divine contemplation within 



THE TEUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 51 

the walls of a cloister. How very beneficial, how 
well adapted to the exigencies of human nature, 
were these religious institutions, is proved by the 
vigorous expansion of all human energies — by the 
harmonious development of all moral and intellect- 
ual faculties, which they promoted — by the pro- 
digious height which individuals attained to in 
every department of art and science, and by the 
universally prosperous condition of trade, whether 
in intellectual or material merchandise, through- 
out the whole extent of Europe, and even to the 
remotest India. 

John von Mullee, 

Travels of the Popes. 



THE CRUSADES. 



A 3HGHTY tempest of elevating, purifying emo- 
tions swept over Christendom. It is not easy for 
those who have never known, to understand what 
it must be for an age receptive of noble impres- 
sions to have a purpose and aim set before it, 
which claim all its energies, meet all its peculiar 
conditions, while, at the same time, lifting it above 
the commonplace and the mean, they are far 
loftier than any which men's minds have hitherto 
entertained. Such a purpose and aim was the 
Crusades, during well-nigh two centuries, for 
Europe ; and the answer which Christian Europe 
made to the appeal is a signal testimony of the 
preparedness of the Middle Ages for noble 
thoughts and noble deeds. 

To the high thoughts which they kindled in so 
many hearts, to the religious consecration which 
they gave to the bearing of arms, we are indebted 
for some of the fairest aspects of chivalry, as it 
lives on a potent and elevating tradition to the 
present day. Thus to them we owe the stately 



THE TRUTH A1NT> BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 53 

courtesies of gallant foes able to understand and 
to respect one another, with, much else which has 
lifted up modern warfare into something better 
than a mere mutual butchery, even into a school 
of honor in which some of the gentlest and noblest 
men have been trained. The " Happy Warrior" 
of Wordsworth could never have been written, for 
such an ideal of the soldier could never have been 
conceived except for them. 

Aechbishop Trench, 
Lectures on Mediceval Church History. 



CHIVALRY. 



The same spirit of enterprise which had 
prompted so many gentlemen to take arms in de- 
fence of the oppressed pilgrims of Palestine, in- 
cited others to declare themselves the patrons and 
avengers of injured innocence at home. When 
the final reduction of the Holy Land under the 
dominion of infidels put an end to these foreign 
expeditions, the latter was the only employment 
left for the activity and courage of adventurers. 
To check the insolence of overgrown oppressors ; 
to rescue the helpless from captivity ; to pro- 
tect or to avenge women, orphans, and eccle- 
siastics, who could not bear arms in their own 
defence ; to redress wrongs and remove griev- 
ances : were deemed acts of the highest prowess 
and merit. Valor, humanity, courtesy, justice, 
honor, were the characteristic qualities of chivalry. 
Men were trained to knighthood by a long pre- 
vious discipline ; they were admitted into the 
Order by solemnities no less devout than pom- 
pous ; every person of noble birth courted that 

(54) 



THE TKUTH A1NTD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 55 

honor ; it was deemed a distinction superior to 
royalty ; and monarchs were proud to receive it 
from the hands of private gentlemen. 

The singular institution, in which valor, gal- 
lantry, and religion were so strangely blended, was 
wonderfully adapted to the taste and genius of 
martial nobles : and its effects were soon visible in 
their manners. War was carried on with less 
ferocity when humanity came to be deemed the 
ornament of knighthood no less than courage. 
More gentle and polished manners were intro- 
duced when courtesy was recommended as the 
most amiable of knightly virtues. Violence and 
oppression decreased when it was reckoned meri- 
torious to check and to punish them. A scrupu- 
lous adherence to truth, with the most religious 
attention to fulfil every engagement, became the 
distinguishing characteristic of a gentleman; be- 
cause chivalry was regarded as the school of 
honor, and inculcated the most delicate sensibility 
with respect to these points. The admiration of 
those qualities, together with the high distinc- 
tions and prerogatives conferred on knighthood in 
every part of Europe, inspired persons of noble 
birth on some occasions with a species of military 
fanaticism, and led them to extravagant enter- 
prises. But they deeply imprinted on their 



56 TRIBUTES OE PROTESTANT WRITERS. 

minds the principles of generosity and honor. 
These were strengthened by everything that can 
affect the senses or touch the heart. The wild ex- 
ploits of those romantic knights who sallied forth 
in quest of adventures are well known. The 
political and permanent effects of the spirit of 
chivalry have been less observed. Perhaps the 
humanity which accompanies all the operations of 
war, the refinements of gallantry, and the point of 
honor — the three chief circumstances which dis- 
tinguish modern from ancient manners — may be 
ascribed in a great measure to this institution, 
which has appeared whimsical to superficial ob- 
servers, but by its effects has proved of great bene- 
fit to mankind. The sentiments which chivalry 
inspired had a wonderful influence on manners 
and conduct during the twelfth, thirteenth, four- 
teenth, and fifteenth centuries. They were so 
deeply rooted, that they continued to operate after 
the vigor and reputation of the institution itself 

began to decline. 

William Robertson, 
History of the Reign of the Emperor Charles V. 



THE SACRED STRUCTURES OF THE 
MIDDLE AGES. 



As we advance into the Middle Ages, we observe 
the Christian idea unfolding itself in art of im- 
posing majesty and of exceeding beauty. First, 
naturally in architecture. The architecture which 
ultimately prevailed in the sacred buildings of 
Western Europe was that which we call the Gothic. 
I enter into no discussion on its name, its origin, 
its varieties, and its transitions. The distinctive 
spirit which pervades all its forms, is what we 
have to consider. That, I would say, was the spirit 
of mystery and of aspiration. A Gothic cathedral 
seemed an epitome of creation. In its vastness it 
was a sacramental image of the universe ; in its 
diversity it resembled nature, and in its unity it 
suggested God. But it suggested man too. It 
was the work of man's hands, shaping the solemn 
visions of his soul into embodied adoration. It 
was, therefore, the grandest symbol of union be 
tween the divine and human which imagination 

ever conceived, which art ever moulded ; and it was 
3* (57) 



58 TEIBUTES OE PROTESTANl WRITEKS TO 

in being symbolic of such union, that it had its 
Christian peculiarity. The mould of its structure 
was a perpetual commemoration of Christ's suffer- 
ings, and a sublime publication of His glory. Its 
ground plan in the figure of a cross was emblem- 
atic of Calvary. Its pinnacles, which tapered 
through the clouds and vanished into light, pointed 
to those heavens to which the Crucified had ascend- 
ed. Here is the mystery of death and sorrow. 
And that mystery is intensified in the sufferings of 
Christ ; hence is the aspiration of life and hope, as 
it is exalted in the victory of Christ. 

In yet other ways mystery and aspiration are 
suggested in the sacred structures of Gothic archi- 
tecture. I particularly refer to structures of an- 
cient and majestic greatness. The mere bulk of 
one of those seems at the same time to overpower 
the mind, and yet lift it up to heaven. The mere 
personal presence of a human being seems lost in 
its mighty space ; but while the body is dwarfed, 
the soul is magnified. As we look and wonder, the 
thought ever comes that man it was who conceived, 
consolidated, upreared those monuments of im- 
mensity ; and the spirit of his immortal being 
seems to throb in every stone. Here, then, is the 
mystery of man in his lowliness and his gran- 
deur, in his dust and dignity, touching earth and 
heaven — feeble as an insect, and mighty as an 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 59 

angel. Again, if we look tlirongli a vast cathedral 
in its many and dim-lit passages, our siglit "in 
wandering mazes lost," finds no end and no begin- 
ning. Then does tlie thought occur to us, that, if 
we can not with tlie eve take in the windings of a 
church, how infinitely less can we with the mind 
discover all the ways of God. And while the 
cathedral gives us in one aspect a sense of sacred 
mystery, in another it gives us an impression of 
the boundless. Its awful spaces of naves and aisles 
carry our thoughts away into the amplitude of 
God ? s dominion. Its bold and lofty arches lift 
them up to the battlements of His throne. Was it 
not the soul, reaching to its sublimest strivings, 
which placed turret above tower and spire above 
turret, until the cross, over all, seemed to melt 
away into immortal light ? I love with the strength 
of early love the sacred structures of the Middle 
Ages. Ireland, the country of my birth and of my 
youth, is covered with the ruins of olden sanctu- 
aries, and in their sombre silence many an hour of 
my early life was passed. The rustic parish church, 
the pontifical cathedral, though all unroofed, were 
even in their desolation lovely ; and more days 
than I can now remember they were my lonely 
shelter from the sun of summer noontide. Then, 
in such visions as under the spells of hoary Time 
the young imagination dreams, I have built these 



60 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS. 

rains up again — flung out the sound of matin 
chimes upon the morning air — awakened once 
more, at sunset, the vesper hymn — called from the 
sleeping dust prelates, priests, choristers, congre- 
gations — bade the long procession move — caused 
the lofty altar to blaze with light — listened to the 
chanted Mass — heard the swelling response of sur- 
pliced singers, and thrilled with the reverberation 
of the mighty organ. Even now, in hours of idle 
musing, the dream comes back, and the form of a 
pine-tree, projected on the sunshine of Maine, or 
of JSTew Hampshire, or of Massachusetts, can still 
cheat me for a moment to believe it is the shadow 
of an ancient spire. Such temples, though silent, 
had a language of deep meaning ; silent to the ear, 
their language was to the soul. They told me of 
the power, the earnestness of faith. They told me 
of men in other days, strong in conviction, patient 
in hope, and persevering in believing work. They 
told me of the ancient dead. They told me how 
generations have come and passed away like the 
changes of a dream — how centuries are less than 
seconds on the horologe of the universe. They 
proclaimed eternity in the presence of the tomb, 
and announced immortality on the ashes of the 

grave. 

Henry Giles, 

Lectures and Essays. 






LYING CHURCH HISTOKIANS. 



Absteactedly from all the influences winch we 
have sustained in common with the rest of the 
civilized commonwealth, our British disparage- 
ment of the Middle Ages has been exceedingly 
enhanced by our grizzled ecclesiastical or church 
historians of the sixteenth and seventeenth centu- 
ries. These "standard works," accepted and re- 
ceived as Canonical Books, have tainted the nobil- 
ity of our national mind. An adequate parallel to 
their bitterness, their shabbiness, their shirking, 
their habitual disregard of honor and veracity, is 
hardly afforded even by the so-called " Anti- 
Jacobin" during the revolutionary and Imperial 
wars. The history of Napoleon, his Generals, and 
the French nation, collected from these exaggera- 
tions of selfish loyalty, rabid aversion, and panic 
terror, would be the match of our popular and pre- 
vailing ideas concerning Hildebrand, or Anselm, or 
Becket, or Innocent III., or mediaeval Catholicity 
in general, grounded upon our ancestral tradi- 
tionary " Standard ecclesiastical authorities," such 

(61) 



62 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS. 

as Burnet's Reformation, or Fox's Book of 
Martyrs. 

The scheme and intent of mediaeval Catholicity 
was to render Faith the all-actuating and all-con- 
trolling vitality. So far as the system extended, 
it had the effect of connecting every social element 
with Christianity. And Christianity being thus 
wrought up into the mediaeval system, every 
mediaeval institution, character, or mode of 
thought afforded the means or vehicle for the vili- 
fication of Christianity. Never do these writers, 
or their school, whether in France or in Great 
Britain, Voltaire or Mably, Hume, Robertson, or 
Henry, treat the Clergy or the Church with fair- 
ness ; not even with common honesty. If histori- 
cal notoriety enforces the allowance of any merit 
to a Priest, the effect of this extorted acknowl- 
edgment is destroyed by a clever insinuation, or 
a coarse innuendo. Consult, for example, Hume 
when compelled to notice the Archbishop Hubert's 
exertions in procuring the concession of the Mag- 
na Charta ; and Henry, narrating the communica- 
tions which passed between Gregory the Great and 
Saint Austin. 

Sir Francis Palgrave, 
History of Normandy and England. 



THE STUDIOUS MOXKS OF THE MIDDLE 

AGES. 



Monachism in art, taken in a large sense, is 
historically interesting, as the expression of a 
most important era of human cnlture. We are 
outliving the gross prejudices which once repre- 
sented the life of the cloister as being from first to 
last a life of laziness and imposture ; we know 
that, but for the monks, the light of liberty, and 
literature and science had been forever extinguish- 
ed ; and for six centuries there existed for the 
thoughtful, the gentle, the inquiring, the devout 
spirit, no peace, no security, no home but the clois- 
ter. There, learning trimmed her lamp ; there, 
contemplation plumed her wings ; there, the tra- 
ditions of art preserved from age to age by lonely, 
studious men, kept alive in form and color the 
idea of a beauty beyond that of earth — of a 
might beyond that of the spear and the shield — of 
a divine sympathy with suffering humanity. To 
this we may add another and a stronger claim to 
our respect and moral sympathies. The protection 

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64 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS. 

and the better education given to women in these 
early communities ; tlie venerable and distinguish- 
ed rank assigned to them, when as governesses of 
their order,* they became in a manner dignitaries 
of the Church ; the introduction of their beautiful 
and saintly effigies, clothed with all the insignia 
of sanctity and authority into the decoration of 
places of worship and books of devotion, did more, 
perhaps, for the general cause of womanhood than 
all the boasted institutions of chivalry. 

Mrs. Jameson, 
Legends of the Monastic Orders. 



THE GREAT CATHOLIC ITALIAN 
REPUBLICS. 



During the gloomy and disastrous centuries 
which followed the downfall of the Roman Em- 
pire, Italy had preserved, in a far greater extent 
than any other part of Western Europe, the traces 
of ancient civilization. The night which de- 
scended upon her was the night of an Arctic sum- 
mer — the dawn began to reappear before the last 
reflection of the preceding sunset had faded from 
the horizon. It was in the time of the French 
Merovingians, and of the Saxon Heptarchy, that 
ignorance and ferocity seem to have done their 
worst. Yet even then the Neapolitan provinces, 
recognizing the authority of the Eastern Empire, 
jjreserved something of Eastern knowledge and 
refinement. Rome, protected by the sacred char- 
acter of its Pontiffs, enjoyed at least comparative 
security and repose. Even in those regions where 
the sanguinary Lombards had fixed their mon- 
archy, there was incomparably more of wealth, of 
information, of physical comfort, and of social 

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66 TRIBUTES OP PROTESTAZST WRITERS TO 

order, than could be found in Gaul, Britain, or 
Germany. 

That which most distinguished Italy from the 
neighboring countries was the importance which 
the population of the towns, from a very early 
period, began to acquire. Some cities, founded in 
wild and remote situations, by fugitives who had 
escaped from the rage of the barbarians, preserved 
their freedom by their obscurity till they became 
able to preserve it by their power. Others seemed 
to have retained, under all the changing dynasties 
of invaders, under Odoacer and Theodoric, Xarses 
and Alboin, the municipal institutions which had 
been conferred on them by the liberal policy of 
the Great Republic. In provinces which the cen- 
tral government was too feeble either to protect or 
to oppress, these institutions first acquired stabil- 
ity and vigor. The citizens, defended by their 
walls, and governed by their own magistrates and 
their own by-laws, enjoyed a considerable share 
of republican independence. Thus a strong demo- 
cratic spirit was called into action. The generous 
policy of Otho encouraged it. In the twelfth cen- 
tury it attained its full vigor, and, after a long 
and doubtful conflict, it triumphed over the abili- 
ties and courage of the Swabian Princes. 

This liberty revisited Italy ; and with liberty 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 67 

came commerce and empire, science and taste, all 
the comforts and all the ornaments of life. The 
Crusades brought the rising commonwealth of the 
Adriatic and Tyrrhene seas a large increase of 
wealth, dominion, and knowledge. Their moral 
and their geographical position enabled them to 
profit alike by the barbarism of the West and the 
civilization of the East. Their ships covered every 
sea. Their factories rose on every shore. Their 
money-changers set their tables in every city. 
Manufactures flourished. Banks were established. 
The operations of the commercial machine were 
facilitated by many useful and beautiful inven- 
tions. We doubt whether any country of Europe 
has at the present time reached so high a point 
of wealth and civilization as some parts of Italy 
had attained four hundred years ago. Historians 
rarely descend to those details from which alone 
the real state of a community can be collected. 
Hence posterity is too often deceived by the vague 
hyperboles of poets and rhetoricians, who mistake 
the splendors of a court for the happiness of a 
people. Fortunately John Villani has given us an 
ample and precise account of the state of Florence 
in the earlier part of the fourteenth century. 
The revenue of the republic amounted to three 
hundred thousand florins — a sum which, allowing 



9 

68 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

for the depreciation of the precious metals, was at 
least equivalent to six hundred thousand pounds 
sterling ; a larger sum than England and Ireland, 
two centuries ago, yielded annually to Elizabeth — 
a larger sum than, according to any computation 
which we have seen, the Grand Duke of Tuscany 
now derives from a territory of much greater ex- 
tent. The manufacture of wool alone employed 
two hundred factories and thirty thousand work- 
men. The cloth annually produced sold, at an 
average, for twelve hundred thousand florins ; a 
sum fairly equal, in exchangeable value, to two mil- 
lions and a half of our money. * Four hundred 
thousand florins were annually coined. Eighty 
banks conducted the commercial operations, not 
of Florence only, but of all Europe. The transac- 
tions of these establishments were sometimes of a 
magnitude which may surprise even the contem- 
poraries of the Barings and the Rothschilds. Two 
houses advanced to Edward the Third of England 
upwards of three hundred thousand marks, at a 
time when the mark contained more silver than 
fifty shillings of the present day, and when the 
value of silver was more than quadruple of what 
it now is. The progress of elegant literature and 



* Twelve and a half million dollars. 



THE TKUTH AJ\ X D BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 69 

of the fine-arts was proportioned to that of the 
public prosperity. Under the despotic successors 
of Augustus all the fields of the intellect had been 
turned into arid wastes, still marked out by for- 
mal boundaries, still retaining the traces of old 
cultivation, but yielding neither flowers nor fruit. 
The deluge of barbarism came. It swept away all 
the landmarks. It obliterated all the signs of for- 
mer tillage. But it fertilized while it devastated. 
When it receded, the wilderness was as the garden 
of Grod, rejoicing on every side, laughing, clapping 
its hands, pouring forth in spontaneous abundance 
everything brilliant, or fragrant, or nourishing. 
A new language, characterized by simple sweetness 
and simple energy, had attained its perfection. 
No tongue ever furnished more gorgeous and 
vivid tints to poetry ; nor was it long before a poet 
appeared who knew how to employ them. Early 
in the fourteenth century came forth the " Divine 
Comedy," beyond comparison the greatest work of 
imagination which had appeared since the poems 
of Homer. The following generation produced, 
indeed, no second Dante ; but it was eminently 
distinguished by general intellectual activity. 

From this time the admiration of learning and 
genius became almost an idolatry among the 
people of Italy. Kings and republics, cardinals 



70 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

and doges, vied with each other in honoring and 
flattering Petrarch. Embassies from rival States 
solicited the honor of his instructions. His coro- 
nation agitated the court of Naples and the people 
of Rome as much as the most important political 
transactions could have done. To collect books 
and antiques, to found professorships, to patronize 
men of learning, became almost universal fashions 
among the great. The spirit of literary research al- 
lied itself to that of commercial enterprise. Every 
place to which the merchant princes of Florence 
extended their gigantic traffic, from the bazaars of 
the Tigris to the monasteries of the Clyde, was 
ransacked for medals and manuscripts. Architec- 
ture, painting, and sculpture were munificently 
encouraged. Indeed it would be difficult to name 
an Italian of eminence during the period of which 
we speak, who, whatever may have been his gen- 
eral character, did not at least affect a love of let- 
ters and of the arts. Knowledge and public pros- 
perity continued to advance together. Both at- 
tained their meridian in the age of Lorenzo the 
Magnificent. 

The Roman Pontiffs exhibited in their own per- 
sons all the austerity of the early anchorites of 
Syria. Paul IY. brought to the Papal throne the 
same fervent zeal which had carried him into the 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 71 

Theatine convent. Pius Y., under his gorgeous 
vestments, wore day and night the hair shirt of a 
simple friar ; walked barefoot in the streets at the 
head of processions ; found, even in the midst of 
his most pressing avocations, time for private 
prayer ; often regretted that the public duties 
of his station were unfavorable to growth in holi- 
ness ; and edified his flock by innumerable in- 
stances of humility, charity, and forgiveness of 
personal injuries ; while, at the same time, he up- 
held the authority of his See, and the unadulter- 
ated doctrines of his Church with all the vehe- 
mence of Hildebrand. Gregory XIII. exerted him- 
self to imitate Pius in the severe virtues of his 
sacred profession. 

It is delightful to turn to the opulent and 
enlightened States of Italy — to the vast and mag- 
nificent cities, the ports, the arsenals, the villas, 
the museums, the libraries, the marts filled with 
every article of comfort and luxury, the manufac- 
tories swarming with artisans, the Appenines cov- 
ered with rich cultivation up to their very sum- 
mits, the Po wafting the harvests of Lombardy to 
the granaries of Venice, and carrying back the 
silks of Bengal and the furs of Siberia to the 
palaces of Milan. With peculiar pleasure, every 
cultivated mind must repose on the fair, the 



72 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS. 

happy, the glorious Florence, on the halls which 
rung with the mirth of Pulci, the cell where 
twinkled the midnight lamp of Politian, the 
statues on which the young eye of Michael Angelo 
glared with the frenzy of a kindred inspiration. 

Lord Macaulay, 
Critical and Miscellaneous Essays. 



THE DEBT OF ENGLISH TO ITALIAN LIT- 
ERATUEE. 



To tlie Englishman one of the chief interests of 
the study of Italian literature is derived from the 
fact that between England and Italy an almost un- 
interrupted current of intellectual intercourse had 
been maintained throughout the last five centuries. 
Italy has formed the dreamland of the English 
fancy, inspiring poets with their most delightful 
thoughts, supplying them with subjects, and im- 
planting in their minds that sentiment of South- 
ern beauty which, engrafted on our less passion- 
ately imaginative Northern nature, has borne rich 
fruit in the works of Chaucer, Spencer, Marlowe, 
Shakespeare, Milton, and the poets of this century. 

It is not strange that Italy should thus in mat- 
ters of culture have been the guide and mistress of 
England. Italy, of all the European nations, was 
the first to produce high art and literature in the 
dawn of modern civilization. Italy was the first 
to display refinement in domestic life, polish of 
manners, civilities of intercourse. In Italy the 

4 (73) 



74 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

commerce of courts first developed a society of 
men and women educated by tlie same traditions 
of humanistic culture. In Italy the principles of 
government were first discussed and reduced to 
theory. In Italy the zeal for the classics took its 
origin ; and scholarship, to which we owe our 
mental training, was at first the possession of none 
almost but Italians. It therefore followed that 
during the age of Renaissance any man of taste 
or genius who desired to share the newly discov- 
ered privileges of learning had to seek Italy. 
Every one who wished to be initiated into the se- 
crets of science or philosophy had to converse with 
Italians in person or through their books. Every 
one who was eager to polish his native language, 
and to render it the proper vehicle of poetic 
thought, had to consult the masterpieces of Italian 
literature. To Italians the courtier, the diploma- 
tist, the artist, the student of state-craft and mili- 
tary tactics, the political theorist, the merchant, the 
man of laws, the man of arms, and the churchman 
turned for precedents and precepts. The nations 
of the Xorth, still torpid and somnolent in their 
semi-barbarism, needed the magnetic touch of Italy 
before they could awake to intellectual life. Is"or 
was this all. Long before the thirst for culture 
possessed the English mind, Italy had appropriated 



THE TRUTH A1STD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 75 

and assimilated all that Latin literature contained 
of strong or splendid to arouse the thought and 
fancy of the modern world ; Greek, too, was rapid- 
ly becoming the possession of the scholars of Flor- 
ence and Rome ; so that English men of letters 
found the spirit of the ancients infused into a 
modern literature ; models of correct and elegant 
composition existed for them in a language easy, 
harmonious, and not dissimilar in usage to their 
own. 

The importance of this service, rendered by 
Italians to the rest of Europe, can not be exagger- 
ated. By exploring, digesting, and reproducing 
the classics, Italy made the labor of scholarship 
comparatively light for the Northern nations, and 
extended to us the privilege of culture without the 
peril of losing originality in the enthusiasm for 
erudition. Then, in addition to this benefit of in- 
struction, Italy gave to England a gift of pure 
beauty, the influence of which, in refining our 
national taste, harmonizing the roughness of our 
manners and our language, and stimulating our 
imagination, has been incalculable. It was not an 
unfrequent custom for young men of ability to 
study at the Italian universities, or at least to un- 
d3rtake a journey to the principal Italian cities. 
From their sojourn in that land of loveliness and 



76 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS, 

intellectual life they returned with their Northern 
brains more powerfully stimulated. To produce, 
by masterpieces of the imagination, some work of 
style that should remain as a memento of that 
glorious country, and should vie on English soil 
with the art of Italy, was their generous ambition. 
Consequently the substance of the stories versified 
by our poets, the forms of our metres, and the 
cadences of our prose periods reveal a close atten- 
tion to Italian originals. 

John Addhntgton Symonds, 
Sketches and Studies in Southern Europe. 



LEO THE TENTH. 



By no circumstance in the character of an indi- 
vidual is the love of literature so strongly evinced, 
as by the propensity for collecting together the 
writings of illustrious scholars, and compressing 
" the soul of ages past " within the narrow limits 
of a library. Few persons have experienced this 
passion in an equal degree with Leo X., and still 
fewer have had an equal opportunity of gratifying 
it. We have already seen, that in the year 1508, 
whilst he was yet a cardinal, he had purchased 
from the monks of the convent of St. Marco, at 
Florence, the remains of the celebrated library of 
his ancestors, and had transferred it to his own 
house in Rome. Unwilling, however, to deprive 
his native place of so invaluable a treasure, he had 
not, on his elevation to the pontificate, thought 
proper to unite this collection with that of the 
Vatican ; but had entrusted it to the care of the 
learned Yarino Camerti ; intending again to re- 
move it to Florence, as to the place of its final des- 
tination. This design, which he was prevented 

(77) 



78 



TRIBUTES OF PROTESTAKT WRITERS TO 



from executing by his death, was afterward carried 
into effect by tlie cardinal Giulio de' Medici, who 
before he attained the supreme dignity, had en- 
gaged the great artist, Michael Angelo Buonarotti, 
to erect the magnificent and spacious edifice near 
the church of St. Lorenzo, at Florence, where these 
inestimable treasures were afterward deposited ; 
and where, with considerable additions from sub- 
sequent benefactors, they yet remain, forming an 
immense collection of manuscripts of the Oriental, 
Greek, Roman, and Italian writers, now denomi- 
nated the "Bibliotheca Mediceo-Laurentiana." 

The care of Leo X. in the preservation of his 
domestic library did not, however, prevent him 
from bestowing the most sedulous attention in 
augmenting that which was destined to the use of 
himself and his successors in the palace of the 
Vatican. This collection, begun by that excellent 
and learned sovereign, Nicholas V., and greatly 
increased by succeeding pontiffs, was already de- 
posited in a suitable edifice, erected for that pur- 
pose by Sixtus IV., and was considered as the 
most extensive assemblage of literary productions 
in all Italy. The envoys employed by Leo X. on 
affairs of State in various parts of Europe, were 
directed to avail themselves of every opportunity 
of obtaining these precious remains of antiquity, 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 79 

and men of learning were frequently dispatched 
to remote and barbarous countries for the sole 
purpose of discovering and rescuing these works 
from destruction. Nor did the pontiff hesitate to 
render his high office subservient to the promotion 
of an object which he considered of the utmost 
importance to the interest of literature, by requir- 
ing the assistance of the other sovereigns of Chris- 
tendom in giving effect to his researches. In the 
year 1517 he dispatched as his envoy, John Heyt- 
mers de Zonvelben, oh a mission to Germany, Den- 
mark, Sweden, and Gothland, for the sole purpose 
of inquiring after literary works, and particularly 
historical compositions. This envoy was furnished 
with letters from the Pope to the different sover- 
eigns through whose dominions he had to pass, 
earnestly entreating them to promote the object of 
his visit by every means in their power. Some of 
these letters yet remain, and afford a decisive proof 
of the ardor with which Leo X. engaged in this 
pursuit. With a similar view he dispatched to 
Venice the celebrated Agostino Beazzano, whom 
he furnished with letters to the doge Loredano, 
directing him to spare no expense in the acquisi- 
tion of manuscripts of the Greek authors. Efforts 
so persevering could not fail of success ; and the 
Vatican library, during the pontificate of Leo X., 



80 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTAISTT WRITERS TO 

was augmented by many valuable works, which 
without his vigilance and liberality would probably 
have been lost to the world. 

After the pages which have been already devoted 
to enumerate the services rendered by Leo X. to 
all liberal studies, by the establishment of learned 
seminaries, by the recovery of the works of the 
ancient writers, and the publication of them by 
means of the press, by promoting the knowledge 
of the Greek and Latin languages, and the munifi- 
cent encouragement bestowed by him on the pro- 
fessors of every branch of science, of literature, 
and of art ; it would surely be as superfluous to 
recapitulate his claims, as it would be unjust to 
deny his pretensions to an eminent degree of merit. 

That an astonishing proficiency in the improve- 
ment of the human intellect was made during the 
pontificate of Leo X. is universally allowed. That 
such proficiency is principally to be attributed to 
the exertions of that pontiff, will now perhaps be 
thought equally indisputable. Of the predomi- 
nating influence of a powerful, and accomplished, 
and fortunate individual on the character and 
manners of the age, the history of mankind fur- 
nishes innumerable instances ; and happy it is for 
the world, when the pursuits of such individuals, 



THE TRUTH AKD BEAUTY OE CATHOLICITY. 81 

instead of being devoted, through blind ambition, 
to the subjugation or destruction of the human 
race, are directed toward those beneficent and gen- 
erous ends, which amid all his avocations, Leo The 
Tenth appears to have kept continually in view. 

William Roscoe, 
Life and Pontificate of Leo X. 



4* 



ST. MARK'S, VENICE. 



And well may they fall back, for beyond those 
troops of ordered arches there rises a vision out 
of the earth, and all the great square seems to 
have opened from it in a kind of awe, that we may 
see it far away ; a multitude of pillars and white 
domes, clustered into a long, low pyramid of color- 
ed light ; a treasure-heap, it seems, partly of gold, 
and partly of opal and mother-of-pearl, hollowed 
beneath into five great vaulted porches, ceiled with 
fair mosaic, and beset with sculpture of alabaster, 
clear as amber and delicate as ivory ; sculpture 
fantastic and involved, of palm leaves and lilies, 
and grapes and pomegranates, and birds clinging 
and fluttering among the branches, all twined to- 
gether into an endless network of buds and 
plumes ; and in the midst of it, the solemn forms 
of angels, sceptred and robed to the feet, and lean- 
ing to each other across the gates, their figures in- 
distinct among the gleaming of the golden ground 
through the leaves beside them, interrupted and 
dim, like the morning light as it faded back 

(82) 



THE TRUTH ANT> BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 83 

among the branches of Eden, when first its gates 
were angel-guarded long ago. And round the 
walls of the porches there are set pillars of varie- 
gated stones, jasper and porphyry, and deep-green 
serpentine, spotted with flakes of snow, and mar- 
bles that half refuse and half yield to the sun- 
shine, Cleopatra-like, "their bluest veins to kiss," 
the shadow, as it steals back from them, reveal- 
ing line after line of azure undulation, as a reced- 
ing tide leaves the waved sand ; their capitals rich 
with interwoven tracery, rooted knots of herbage, 
and drifting leaves of acanthus and vine and 
mystical signs, all beginning and ending in the 
Cross ; and above them in the broad archivolts, a 
continuous chain of language and of life — angels 
and the signs of heaven, and the labors of men, 
each in its appointed season upon the earth ; and 
above these, another range of glittering pinnacles, 
mixed with white arches edged with scarlet flow- 
ers, — a confusion of delight, amidst which the 
breasts of the Greek horses are seen blazing in 
their breadth of golden strength, and the St. 
Mark's Lion lifted on a blue field covered with 
stars, until at last, as if in ecstasy, the crests of 
the arches break into a marble foam, and toss 
themselves into the blue sky, in flashes and 
wreaths of sculptured spray, as if the breakers on 



84 TEIBUTES OF PEOTESTANT WEITEES TO 

the Lido shore had been frost-bound before they 
fell, and the sea-nymphs had inlaid them with 
coral and amethyst. 

A large atrium or portico is attached to the two 
sides of the church, a space which was especially 
reserved for unbaptized persons and new converts. 
It was thought right that, before their baptism,* 
these persons should be led to contemplate the 
great facts of the Old Testament history ; the his- 
tory of the Fall of Man, the lives of the Patriarchs 
up to the period of the Covenant by Moses ; the 
order of the subjects in this series being very near- 
ly the same as in many Northern churches, but 
significantly closing with the Fall of the Manna, 
in order to mark to the catechumen the insufficien- 
cy of the Mosaic covenant for salvation, — "Our 
fathers did eat manna in the wilderness, and are 
dead," — and to turn his thoughts to the true 
Bread of which that manna was the type. 

Then, when after his baptism he was permitted 
to enter the church, over its main entrance he saw, 
on looking back, a mosaic of Christ enthroned, 
with the Virgin on one side and St. Mark on the 
other, in attitudes of adoration. Christ is repre- 
sented as holding a book open upon his knee, on 
which is written : "Iam the dooe ; by me if ajsty 

MAN ENTEE IJS", HE SHALL BE SAVED." On the red 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 85 

marble moulding which, surrounds the mosaic is 
written : " I am the gate of life ; let those 
who are mine enter by me." Above on the red 
marble fillet which forms the cornice of the west 
end of the church, is written, with reference to the 
figure of Christ below : " Who he was, and from 

WHOM HE CAME, AND AT WHAT PRICE HE RE- 
DEEMED THEE, AND WHY HE MADE THEE, AND 
GAVE THEE ALL THINGS, DO THOU CONSIDER." 

Now observe, this was not to be seen and read 
only by the catechumen when he first entered the 
church ; every one who at any time entered, was 
supposed to look back and to read this writing ; 
their daily entrance into the church was thus 
made a daily memorial of their first entrance into 
the spiritual church ; and we shall find that the 
rest of the book which was opened for them upon 
its walls, continually led them in the same manner 
to regard the visible temple as in every part a type 
of the invisible Church of God. 

Therefore the mosaic of the first dome, which is 
over the head of the spectator as soon as he has 
entered by the great door (that door being the 
type of baptism), represents the effusion of the 
Holy Spirit, as the first consequence and seal of 
the entrance into the Church of God. In the cen- 
tre of the cupola is the Dove. From the central 



86 TRIBUTES OF PROTEST AJNTT WRITERS TO 

symbol of the Holy Spirit twelve streams of fire 
descend upon the heads of the twelve apostles, 
who are represented standing around the dome ; 
and below them, between the windows which are 
pierced in its walls, are represented, by groups of 
two figures for each separate people, the various 
nations who heard the apostles speak at Pentecost, 
every man in his own tongue. Finally, on the 
vaults, at the four angels which support the 
cupola, are pictured four angels, each bearing a 
tablet upon the end of a rod in his hand : on each 
of the tablets of the first three angels is inscribed 
the word "Holy"; on that of the fourth is written 
"Lord"; and the beginning of the hymn being 
thus put into the mouths of the four angels, the 
words of it are continued around the border of the 
dome, uniting praise to God for the gift of the 
Spirit, with welcome to the redeemed soul into 
His Church. 

"Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of the Sabaoth : 
Heaven and Earth are full of Thy Glory, 
hosanna in the highest : 
Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord." 

After thus hearing praise rendered to God by 
the angels for the salvation of the newly-entered 
soul, it was thought fittest that the worshipper 
should be led to contemplate, in the most compre- 



THE TEUTH A]NT> BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 87 

hensive forms possible, the past evidence and tlie 
future hopes of Christianity, as summed up in 
three facts without assurance of which all faith is 
vain ; namely, that Christ died, that He rose again, 
and that He ascended into heaven, there to prepare 
a place for His elect. On the vault between the first 
and second cupolas are represented the crucifixion 
and resurrection of Christ, with the usual series of 
intermediate scenes — the treason of Judas, the judg- 
ment of Pilate, the crowning with thorns, the de- 
scent into Hades, the visit of the women to the Sep- 
ulchre, and the apparition to Mary Magdalene. 
The second cupola itself, which is the central and 
principal one of the church, is entirely occupied by 
the subject of the Ascension. At the highest point 
of it Chiist is represented as rising into the blue 
heaven, borne up by four angels, and throned upon 
a rainbow, the type of reconciliation. Beneath Him, 
the twelve apostles are seen upon the Mount of 
Olives, with the Madonna, and, in the midst of 
them, the two men in white apparel who appeared 
at the moment of the Ascension, above whom, as 
uttered by them, are inscribed the words, " Ye men 
of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven % 
This Christ, the Son of God, as He is taken from 
you, shall so come, the arbiter of the earth, trusted 
to do judgment and justice." ♦ 



88 TKIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

Beneath the circle of the apostles, between the 
windows of the cupola, are represented the Chris- 
tian virtues, as sequent upon the crucifixion of the 
flesh, and the spiritual ascension together with 
Christ. Beneath them, on the vaults which sup- 
port the angels of the cupola, are placed the four 
Evangelists, because on their evidence our assurance 
of the facts of the ascension rests ; and, finally, be- 
neath their feet, as symbols of the sweetness and 
fulness of the Grospel which they declared, are rep- 
resented the four rivers of Paradise, Pison, Gihon, 
Tigris, and Euphrates. 

The third cupola, that over the altar, represents 
the witness of the Old Testament to Christ ; show- 
ing Him enthroned in its centre, and surrounded by 
the patriarchs and prophets. But this dome was 
little seen by the people ; their contemplation was 
intended to be chiefly drawn to that of the centre 
of the church, and thus the minds of the worship- 
pers was at once fixed on the main groundwork and 
hope of Christianity, — " Christ is risen," and 
"Christ shall come." If he had time to explore 
the minor lateral chapels and cupolas, he would 
find in them the whole series of the New Testa- 
ment history, the events of the Life of Christ, and 
the Apostolic miracles in their order, and, finally, 
the scenery of the Book of Revelation ; but if he 



THE TKUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 89 

only entered, as often the common people do to 
this hour, snatching a few moments before begin- 
ning the labor of the day to offer np an ejacula- 
tory prayer, and advanced but from the main 
entrance as far as the altar screen, all the splendor 
of the glittering nave and variegated dome, if they 
smote upon his heart, as they might often, in 
strange contrast with his reed cabin among the 
shallows of the lagoon, smote upon it only that 
they may proclaim the two great messages — 
" Christ is risen," and " Christ shall come." Daily, 
as the white cupolas rose like wreaths of sea-foam 
in the dawn, while the shadowy campanile and 
frowning palace were still withdrawn into the 
night, they rose with the Easter Voice of Tri- 
umph, — "Christ is risen"; and daily, as they 
looked down upon the tumult of the people, deep- 
ening and eddying in the wide square that opened 
from their feet to the sea, they uttered above them 
the sentence of warning, — "Christ shall come." 

And this thought may surely dispose them to 
look with some change of temper upon the gor- 
geous building and wild blazonry of that shrine of 
St. Mark's. He now perceives that it was in the 
hearts of the old Venetian people far more than 
a place of worship. It was at once a type of 
the Redeemed Church of God, and a scroll for 



90 TEIETJTES OF PROTESTANT WKITERS TO 

the written word of God. It was to be to them, 
both an image of the Bride, all glorious within, her 
clothing of wrought gold ; and the actual Table 
of the Law and the Testimony, written within 
and without. And whether honored as the Church 
or as the Bible, was it not fitting that neither the 
gold nor the crystal should be spared in the adorn- 
ment of it \ that, as the symbol of the Bride, the 
building of the wall thereof should be of jasper, 
and the foundations of it garnished with all man- 
ner of precious stones ; and that, as the channel 
of the Word, that triumphant utterance of the 
Psalmist should be true of it, — " I have rejoiced in 
the way of thy testimonies as much as in all 
riches." And shall we not look with changed tem- 
per down the long perspective of St. Mark's Place 
toward the sevenfold gates and glowing domes of 
its temple, when we know with what solemn pur- 
pose the shafts of it were lifted above the pave- 
ment of the populous square ? Men meet there 
from all countries of the earth, for traffic or for 
pleasure ; but, above the crowd swaying forever to 
and fro in the restlessness of avarice or thirst of 
delight, was seen perpetually the glory of the tem- 
ple, attesting to them, whether they would hear or 
whether they would forbear, that there was one 
treasure which the merchantmen might buy with- 



THE TKUTH AKD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 91 

out a price, and one delight better than all others, 
in the word and statutes of God. Not in the wan- 
tonness of wealth, not in the vain ministry to the 
desire of the eye or the pride of life, were those 
marbles hewn into transparent strength, and those 
arches arrayed in the colors of the iris. There is a 
message written in the dyes of them that once w^as 
written in blood ; and a sound in the echoes of 
their vaults that one day shall fill the vault of 
heaven, — "He shall return, to do judgment and 

justice." 

Johk Ruskin, 

The Stones of Venice. 



CHRISTIANITY THE SAVIOUR OF 
CIVILIZATION. 



It is a remarkable fact in history that it was 
nothing but Christianity saved Rome from utter 
extinction. Had she not been the chosen home of 
this rising faith and new glory, the barbarians 
would scarcely have left one stone upon another : 
she would have been to us what Nineveh, Babylon, 
Thebes, and many other cities are, a tradition 
grand, yet almost beyond conception. As over the 
great solitudes of the sites of those mighty cities, 
wild beasts wander and howl by night, so it would 
have been with Rome when her glory fell, had not 
another and brighter glory settled upon her ruins. 
In fact, the remains of her ancient social life were 
never completely dispersed ; and when the first 
dawn of the new religion appeared, and the old 
luminaries of pagan night receded before the rays 
of a brighter day, its votaries instinctively settled 
at Rome. Popes followed in the wake of Caesars ; 
the glory of the Flavian amphitheatre gave way 
before the new splendors of a Vatican ; gladiators 

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THE TRUTH AKD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 93 

and games were supplanted by religions proces- 
sions and masses ; nnable to destroy feudalism, it 
created chivalry ; in its convents persecuted inno- 
cence always found an asylum, and against the am- 
bition of tyrants it opposed the power of its 
thunders. But it was at Rome that the vicarial 
head of the Church had taken up his abode ; 
toward Rome were bent periodically the footsteps 
of thousands of pilgrims ; and from Rome as from 
a centre emanated all the influences which the new 
religion exercised over the nations who had en- 
listed under the cross. That every stage of her 
history, and more especially of her future destiny, 
should be intensely interesting to Europe and all 
the outlying colonies, the rising new worlds of 
European planting, is not to be wondered at, for 
she is the foster-mother of modern civilization. 
When the wolf and the jackal roamed over the 
very sites of our proudest cities, when offerings 
were made to strange gods by a Druidical priest- 
hood, and the inhabitants of this country were but 
a band of painted savages, Rome was in the very 
zenith of civilized life. When the migration of 
the northern hordes toward the South, extin- 
guished the just kindling torch of civilization, and 
overwhelmed in its dark flood all the evidences of 
refinement in Europe, Rome suffered last and least ; 



94 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTAJSTT WRITERS. 

in her temples were gathered, as in a sanctuary, 
learning, science, and art ; there was kept burning, 
dimly enough, yet still cherished with tender care, 
the trembling lamp of genius, until the better time 
should come when it might be reproduced and its 
genial rays diffused ; and when the time did come, 
and the nations awoke from a long slumber to a 
new life, it was from Rome and Roman traditions 
that the new order of things drew its laws, its lan- 
guage, and its faith. In nearly every part of 
Europe traces are to be found of Roman life ; it 
has permeated through the very aspect of the 
country, the blood of the races, their thought, 
their laws, their idiom, so that civilization seems to 
have been concentrated into a focus at Rome, and 
thence radiated over all the world. It is from the 
fountains of her lore that all modern law has been 
derived, and she may well be called the lawgiver 

of Europe. 

O'Dell Travers Hill, 

English Monasticism : Its Rise and Influence. 



HOLY WEEK IN ROME. 



The service opens by a portion of the Lamenta- 
tions of Jeremiah sung by the choristers, after 
which the Pope recites the pater-noster in a low 
voice ; then being seated on the throne, and 
crowned with the mitre, the theme is continued, 
sung loud and sweet by the first soprano, in a 
tone so long sustained, so high, so pure, so silvery 
and so mellifluous, as to produce the most exquis- 
ite eJffect, in contrast with the deep choruses, an- 
swering in rich harmony at the conclusion of every 
strophe ; and again the lamenting voice is heard, 
tender and pathetic, repeating one sweet prolonged 
tone, sounding clear and high in the distance, till 
brought down again by the chorus. It is as if a 
being of another world were heard lamenting over 
a ruined city, with the responses of a dejected peo- 
ple, and forms a grand and mournful preparation 
for the Miserere. 

The last light being extinguished, the chorus, in 
hurried sounds, proclaims that our Saviour is be- 
trayed ; then, for a moment, as a symbol of the 

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96 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

darkness in which the moral world is left, the 
deepest obscurity prevails ; at the words " Christies 
est mortnus" the Pope, the whole body of clergy 
and the people knelt, and all was silent, when the 
solemn pause was broken by the commencing of 
the Miserere, in low, rich, exquisite strains, rising 
softly on the ear, and gently swelling into power- 
ful sounds of seraphic harmony. 

The effect produced by this music is finer and 
greater than that of any admired art ; no painting, 
statue, or poem, no imagination of man, can equal 
its wonderful power on the mind. The silent so- 
lemnity of the scene, the touching import of the 
words, " Take pity on me, O God," passes to the 
inmost soul, with a thrill of the deepest sensation, 
unconsciously moistening the eye, and paling the 
cheek. The music is composed of two choruses of 
four voices ; the strains begin low and solemn, ris- 
ing gradually to the clear tones of the first so- 
prano, which at times are heard alone ; at the 
conclusion of the verse, the second chorus joins, 
and then by degrees the voices fade and die away. 
The soft and almost imperceptible accumulation of 
sound, swelling in mournful tones of rich har- 
mony, into powerful effect, and then receding, as 
if in the distant sky, like the lamenting song of 
angels and spirits, conveys, beyond all conception 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 97 

to those wlio have heard it, the idea of darkness, 
of desolation, and of the dreary solitude of the 
tomb. A solemn silence ensues, and not a breath 
is heard, while the inaudible prayer of the kneel- 
ing Pope continues. When he rises, slight sounds 
are heard, by degrees breaking on the stillness, 
which has a pleasing effect, restoring, as it were, 
the rapt mind to the existence and feelings of 
the present life. The effect of those slow, pro- 
longed, varied, and truly heavenly strains will not 
easily pass from the memory. 

The service on Easter Sunday is grand and most 
imposing, insensibly raising the feelings to a true 
accord with the scene. There under the superb 
dome built by Michael Angelo, the solemn mass is 
sung in deep silence, amidst the assembly of priests 
and princes. The morning was serene and lovely, 
the sun shone clear and bright through the edifice, 
giving to its imposing dimensions, and noble archi- 
tecture, a more than usual splendor. At the end 
of the great cross, terminating in the grand altar, 
the Pope is seated, supported on either side by the 
cardinals and bishops, with their attendant priests. 
The marble balustrade encircling the altar, is lined 
within by the guards, and spreading out at the 
further ends, galleries are extended, destined for 

royal visitors, princes, and ambassadors, on the 
5 



98 



TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 



one hand, and on the other for strangers of all 
classes. The vast height of the dome, rising 
superbly overhead; the magnificent lower altar 
of line bronze, relieved by a beautiful railing of 
white marble, and lighted by lamps which burn 
continually ; the fine effect produced by the gi- 
gantic statues lessening in the distant vista, as the 
eye traverses along the immense space of this noble 
structure, form a coup d'ceil very striking, and 
singularly fine. At the conclusion of the service, 
the Pope advancing to kneel at the lower altar, 
recites the pater-noster, and then proceeded from 
the church to the balcony in front of St. Peter's, 
to perform the benediction. The sacred character 
of this ceremony receives an additional dignity 
from the fine and commanding aspect of the sur- 
rounding scenery. The approach to St. Peter's is 
very grand, the space within the court immense, 
and the columns and colonnades most magnificent ; 
while the noble and high buildings of the Vatican 
are seen towering on the right hand in a broad 
style of irregular but fine architecture. The long, 
flat steps, ascending to the wide-spreading gates of 
the church, run the whole length of the edifice, 
producing, from their vast extent one of its most 
striking features ; while over the low, square- 
roofed, and not unpicturesque buildings, in front 
of St. Peter's, the eye wanders abroad to the dis- 



THE TKUTH A1TO BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 99 

tant prospect, to the blue hills, and far-seen gla- 
ciers, — the effect being altogether solemn, and fine 
beyond imagination. 

The ample steps of St. Peter's were peopled by 
thousands of the peasantry, who crowded from 
every distant part of the Campagna ; those of the 
higher classes, forming rich and showy groups, 
were seen on each side, covering the fine, flat- 
roofed colonnades. Below, on the level ground, 
the whole body of the Papal guards was drawn 
out in array. Beyond, stood like a deep dark 
phalanx, the carriages and innumerable equipages, 
the vivid tints of the brilliant midday sun giving 
every variety of color, by deepened shade or 
added brightness. In the central balcony of the 
church, awaiting the approach of the Pope, were 
seated the cardinals and prelates, overlooking the 
numbers in the space below. Expectation pre- 
vailed throughout, till his Holiness approached, 
when in a moment all was still ; every eye turned 
from the sunny scene to the dark front of St. 
Peter's, lying deep in the shade, from its massive 
columns ; not a breath, not a sound reached the 
ear. The deep silence that reigned amid such a 
concourse was most impressive ; the whole scene 
excited feelings of the deepest interest, as we con- 
templated the pale, benign, mild countenance and 
venerable aspect of him who was now bending 



100 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTAXT WRITERS. 

forward with anxious zeal to bless the surrounding 
multitude. The deep-toned bell of St. Peter's an- 
nounced the conclusion of the benediction — solemn 
sounds, which were instantly answered by the loud- 
pealing cannon of Castle St. Angelo, as likewise by 
the voices of the musicians, and the clamorous 
rejoicings of the people. 

When night approaches, and the dome of this 
magnificent temple is hung with lights, all the 
grandeur of its architecture is displayed. Each 
frieze and cornice, arch, and gate, and pillar, is 
enriched with lines of splendid fires, and every 
steeple, tower, and bulky dome, glittering with 
light, seems to hang in a firmament of its own, 
high in the clear dark sky. The long sweeping 
colonnades form, as it were, a golden circle, en- 
closing the dark mass of people below, filling the 
spacious basin of the court, while the waters of 
the superb fountains, sparkling in the partial 
gleams of light, are heard dashing amid the hum 
and murmur of the busy throng ; when suddenly, 
in an instant, the form is changed, the red distinct 
stars are involved in one blaze of splendid flame, 
as if the vast machine were moved by the hand of 
some master spirit. 

Jonx Bell, 
Observations on Italy. 



ALFEED THE GEEAT. 



Alfred is a singular instance of a prince, who 
has become a hero of romance, who, as such, has 
had countless exploits and imaginary institutions 
attributed to him, but to whose character romance 
has done no more than justice, and who appears in 
exactly the same light in history and in fable. No 
other man on record has ever so thoroughly united 
all the virtues, both of the ruler and of the private 
man. In no other man on record were so many 
virtues disfigured by so little alloy. A scholar 
without ostentation, a warrior all of whose wars 
were fought in the defence of his country, a con- 
queror whose laurels were never stained by cruelty, 
a prince never cast down in adversity, never lifted 
up to insolence in the day of triumph — there is no 
other name in history to compare with his. With 
an inquiring spirit which took in the whole world, 
for purposes alike of scientific inquiry and of 
Christian benevolence, Alfred never forgot that his 
first duty was to his own people. He forestalled 

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102 TKIBUTES OF PKOTESTANT WEITEES TO 

our own age in sending expeditions to explore the 
Northern Ocean, and in sending alms to the distant 
churches of India. The same union of zeal for re- 
ligion and learning with the highest gifts of the 
warrior and the statesman is found, on a wider field 
of action, in Charles the Great. But even Charles 
can not aspire to the pure glory of Alfred. Amidst 
all the splendors of conquest and legislation, we 
can not be blind to an alloy of personal ambition. 
Among our later princes, the great Edward alone 
can bear for a moment comparison with his glori- 
ous ancestor. And, when tried by such a standard, 
even the great Edward fails. Even in him we do 
not see the same union of gifts which so seldom 
meet together. The times indeed were different ; 
Edward had to tread the path of righteousness and 
honor in a time of far more tangled policy, and 
amidst temptations, not harder indeed, but far 
more subtle. The legislative merits of Edward are 
greater than those of Alfred ; but this is a differ- 
ence in the times rather than the men. It is per- 
haps, after all, in his literary aspect, that the dis- 
tinctive beauty of Alfred's character shines forth 
most clearly. As a rule, literary kings have not 
been a class deserving of much honor. They have, 
for the most part, stepped out of their natural 



THE TEUTH AKD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 103 

sphere only to display the least honorable charac- 
teristics of another calling. But it was not so with 
Alfred. In Alfred there is no sign of literary ped- 
antry, ostentation, or jealousy ; nothing is done 
for his own glory ; he writes, just as he fights and 
legislates, with a single eye to the good of his peo- 
ple. He shows no signs of original genius ; he is 
simply an editor and translator, working honestly 
for the improvement of the subjects whom he 
loved. This is really a purer fame, and one more 
in harmony with the other features of Alfred's 
character, than the highest achievements of the 
poet, the historian, or the philosopher. Alfred 
was specially happy in handing on a large share 
of his genins and his virtue to those who came 
after him. The West Saxon Kings, for nearly a 
century, form one of the most brilliant royal 
lines on record. From Aethelred the Saint to 
Eadgar the Peaceful, the short and wretched reign 
of Eadwig is the only interruption to the one 
continued display of valor under the guidance 
of wisdom. The greatness of the dynasty, ob- 
scured under the second Aethelred, flashes for a 
moment in the short and glorious career of the 
second Eadmund. It then becomes more perma- 
nently eclipsed under the rule of the Danes, Xor- 



104 



TEIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS. 



mans, and Angevin, till it shines forth once more 
in the first of the new race whom we can claim as 
English at heart, and the greatest of the West- 
Saxons seems to rise again to life in the Greatest 
of the Plantagenets. 

Edward A. Freeman, 

Norman Conquest. 



THOMAS CROMWELL, EARL OF ESSEX. 



It would have been morally impossible for a 
monarch so arbitrary and tyrannical as Henry the 
Eighth to have successfully compassed the total 
destruction of the monastic system in England, and 
the subversion of the ancient religion, unless he 
had first obtained the tacit co-operation of the im- 
poverished nobility ; and further secured, by the 
appointment of Thomas Cranmer to the Arch- 
bishopric of Canterbury, a pliant servant of the 
highest ecclesiastical rank, who would do his royal 
master's will with due subservience ; and such an 
unscrupulous lay-tool as Thomas Cromwell, to 
second and carry out the project. 

When it is in the power of kings and rulers to 
perpetrate gross acts of injustice ; when the prin- 
ciple that "might is right" is tolerated and 
approved, and when able and unscrupulous co- 
adjutors have been found to co-operate in doing 
injustice, those who may have planned it, are at 
no great loss for pretence to justify their course of 

proceedings. 

5* (105) 



106 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

To turn the life-owners of estates out of their 
estates ; to uproot and overturn institutions which 
had existed for eight centuries, and were deserv- 
edly valued and venerated by the English people 
from their childhood ; to set all law, human and 
divine, at defiance ; to make a monarch's will law, 
for the time being ; to violate every true principle 
on which property rested ; to rob those who had 
deliberately and solemnly consecrated themselves 
to God ; to deface and destroy religious houses and 
sanctuaries of retirement and rest, where the wor- 
ship of the Blessed Trinity had been piously ren- 
dered for centuries, needed the services of a suitable 
agent. This was found in Thomas Cromwell, the 
son of Walter Cromwell, a blacksmith, of Putney, 
who was born at or about the year 1490, and 
through whose sister who married a Welshman 
named Williams, another tyrant of a later age, 
Oliver Cromwell, claimed descent from the family 
at Putney. 

He is said to have been first employed in the 
English factory at Antwerp, and was afterward 
engaged in the service of the Duke of Bourbon as 
a soldier ; though some writers affirm that prior 
to this he had been, when a mere youth, a page 
or body-servant to Thomas, Lord Cardinal Wolsey ; 
anyhow he was present when Pope Clement VII. 



THE TRUTH AIND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 107 

was made prisoner at the disastrous sack of the 
city of Rome in 1527 ; and by his intercourse with 
various continental people and places liad ob- 
tained the usual advantages of travel and expe- 
rience. 

On his return to England lie was again employed 
by Wolsey, by wliom he appears to liave been 
much esteemed for his vigor and boldness. 

When, in the year 1529, that eminent prince of 
the Church and Prelate fell, Cromwell certainly 
had the courage and honesty to stand by his friend 
and master — the single redeeming feature in his 
otherwise detestable character. 

This feature, attracting the attention of the 
king, as was reported, induced his Majesty to 
command Cromwell's services, which were given 
with such dexterous servility, unscrupulous tactics, 
and commanding resolution, that the road to the 
highest honors in the State shortly presented an 
unimpeded course for his ambition. 

King Henry having assumed the style, title, dig- 
nity, and powers of "the only Protector and Su- 
preme Head of the Church and Clergy of Eng- 
land " — and this immediately after the spirituality, 
in 1531, had granted him a heavy subsidy, equiv- 
alent to two million pounds of our present 
money, — almost immediately delegated his new 



108 TRIBUTES OF PROTEST ANT WRITERS TO 

and unprecedented authority to Thomas, Lord 
Cromwell. 

This person was to exercise "all the spiritual 
authority belonging to the king, for the due ad- 
ministration of justice in all cases touching the 
ecclesiastical jurisdiction, and the godly reforma- 
tion and redress of errors, heresies, and abuses in 
the said church." 

Prior to this event and its immediate conse- 
quences, however, the various stages in what is com- 
monly called the " Reformation of religion " had 
been taken with steady resolve and a most deter- 
mined purpose by the king and his selected coad- 
jutors. In the spring of 1532, the illustrious and 
high-minded Sir Thomas More resigned the Lord 
High Chancellorship ; while about four months 
later, the king raised his mistress, Anne Boleyn, 
to the dignity of Marchioness of Pembroke. 
Thomas Cranmer was appointed to the Archbishop- 
ric of Canterbury, by a Papal Bull dated 21st 
February, 1533. In the following year the clergy 
were forbidden to make canons or constitutions ; 
while none of those existing were to be enforced 
contrary to the king's prerogative, and all appeals 
to Rome were absolutely abolished. The payment 
of the first-fruits was also declared illegal and 
strictly forbidden, and that generally-recognized 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 109 

Papal power of hearing appeals, which had ex- 
isted since the mission of St. Augustine, first Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, and by which local churches 
were visibly bound and banded together both in 
faith and polity, was formally set aside by Act of 
Parliament. The customary and reasonable con- 
firmation of Bishops by the Primate of Christen- 
dom was abolished — persons so regarding or seek- 
ing it henceforth being subject to all the penalties 
of the statutes of prcemunire. In 1534, the king's 
marriage with Queen Catherine of Arragon was 
declared invalid ; she was henceforth to be styled 
"the Princess Dowager "; and any one found main- 
taining the contrary, viz., that she was the king's 
lawful wife, incurred the penalties of high treason, 
i. e. 9 hanging, drawing, and quartering. 

All these steps were taken under the advice and 
with the active and efficient co-operation of Thomas 
Cromwell. But there was still much to be done. 
Difficulties standing in the way of robbery and 
reformation were considerable, but by no means 
insuperable. Those irons, already put in the fire, 
were likely, in due course, to be used largely for 
breaking down the spirit, independence, and power 
of the secular clergy. But the influence of the 
regulars was still very great, and this must be at 
once circumscribed, if not wholly stamped out, by 



110 TKIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

their " reformation," likewise, if anything perma- 
nent was to be accomplished. 

In order suitably and with reasonable tactics to 
commence this new step in a " godly " work, a visi- 
tation of the religious houses was determined on. 
This resolve appears to have been finally taken, 
after due consideration with the king's chief ad- 
visers, at or about the 15th of January, 1535, when 
his Grace formally assumed the title of " Only Su- 
preme Head on Earth of the Church of England,' 5 
which had been granted by a statute recently 
passed. The clergy generally had acknowledged 
that title, with such personal explanations and 
reservations as seemed lawful or expedient to 
them ; but the religious houses were held to be the 
strongholds of the king's foes. 

As it was impossible that one Vicar - General 
could properly investigate the state of these sacred 
and venerable institutions, Cromwell appointed 
several deputies to aid him practically in making 
the visitation. The selection of these was his own 
work ; though their formal commissions were, of 
course, under the king's hand and signet. For the 
purpose of this visitation, the country was divided 
into appointed districts, and two or more of these 
official deputies were sent to inquire into the state 
of the religious houses in each. Some of the 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. Ill 

deputies were men of notoriously infamous charac- 
ters ; some of them had been branded, having been 
convicted of heinous crimes. On arriving at the 
gates of the houses, they appear to have demanded 
an immediate production of money, jewels, Church- 
plate and vestments ; but specially of the title- 
deeds of their property. 

To quote from an able and forcible writer as to 
their general doings and customary processes : " The 
monks and nuns, who had never dreamed of the 
possibility of such proceedings, who had never 
had any idea that Magna Charta and all the laws 
of the land could be set aside in a moment, and 
whose recluse and peaceful lives rendered them 
wholly unfit to cope with at once crafty and des- 
perate villainy, fell before these ruffians as chick- 
ens fall before the kite. The report made by these 
villains met with no contradiction ; the accused 
parties had no means of making a defence ; there 
was no court for them to appear in ; they dared 
not, even if they had the means, offer a defence or 
make a complaint, for they had seen the horrible 
consequences, the burnings, the rippings up of all 
those of their brethren who ventured to whisper 
their dissent from any dogma or decree of the Ty- 
rant. The project was to deprive the people of 
their property ; and yet the parties from whom 



112 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

the property was to be taken were to have no court 
in wliicli to plead their cause, no means of obtain- 
ing a hearing, could make even no complaint but 
at the peril of their lives. They, and those who 
depended on them, were to be at once stripped of 
this great mass of property, without any other 
ground than that of reports made by men sent 
for the express purpose of finding a pretence for 
the dissolution of the monasteries, and for the 
king's taking to himself property that had never 
belonged to him or his predecessors." 

In the spring of the same year, that is, in 1535, 
Cromwell, in order not to forget the secular clergy, 
and at the same time not to allow them to forget 
him, suggested to the king the desirability of com- 
pelling those bishops and ecclesiastical authorities 
who appeared at all backward in their duties to 
recommend the same kind of subserviency to the 
inferior clergy under them as they had shown to 
the Supreme Head and ordinary, and to his Vicar- 
G-eneral. By consequence official letters were dis- 
patched to all the English Bishops, enjoining them 
to preach the newly-adopted Gospel of Erastianism 
with zeal and devotion. They were to put in the 
forefront of their homilies the novel title and ec- 
clesiastical dignity of the king, now formally as- 
sumed, and to see that on all Sundays and feast- 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 113 

days the preachers under them did the same in 
plain and unmistakable terms. They were at the 
same time strictly enjoined to erase from the ser- 
vice-books of the Church every prayer, rule, and 
rubric in which the name of the Pope occurred, so 
that, as the phrase ran, the " memory of the Bishop 
of Rome, except to his contumely and reproach, 
might be extinct, suppressed, and obscured." A 
new form of bidding the beads before sermons was 
also enjoined by Cromwell, the clergy being re- 
quired to pray " for the king, only Supreme Head 
of the Catholic Church of England, and for Queen 
Anne." It was also required, among other precise 
directions, that every preacher should preach once 
on the usurped power of the Bishop of Rome, and 
refrain from siding with his Grace's wife, Queen 
Catherine ; that collects for the king and for the 
lady known as " Queen Anne " should be used at 
all High Masses in every Cathedral and parish 
church, as well as in the churches of all the re- 
ligious houses throughout the land ; while, as a 
still more practical stir-up of their flagging ener- 
gies, the clergy were furthermore furnished with a 
kind of outline of a special sermon upon the his- 
tory of the king's divorce case, in which ready- 
made arguments and royal reasons were abundant- 
ly provided to uphold the policy and morals of 



114 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WEITEES TO 

the Supreme Head, all furthermore — perhaps with 
a dash of irony — were expressly required "to 
preach only the Scripture and the pure word of 
Christ." 

Within five weeks most of the prelates had sent 
in their replies. But some few of them, and many 
of the inferior clergy, were not quite so obedient 
and subservient to the royal Defender of the Faith 
as they perhaps might have been. A few were 
silent and sullen, as was reported to Cromwell by 
his active and inquisitorial agents ; others were 
outspoken and plain-spoken in opposition, both 
to the Supreme Head and his Vicar- General. So, 
within ten days of the dispatch of the order regu- 
lating the preaching of the clergy, a circular letter 
was sent to all the Justices of the Peace through- 
out the country, commanding them to make im- 
mediate and diligent search, and insist that the 
Bishops did their duty as required without diminu- 
tion or omission. This took place on the 9th of 
June. To place the Bishops and clergy under the 
town and country magistrates, though perhaps 
something of a novelty in Church government, was 
quite worth v of a lav Vicar- General and the kind's 
other advisers. If default or dissimulation were 
found, it was to be reported without delay to the 
king's council ; and if this were not done promptly 



THE TEUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 115 

and efficiently by the Justices of the Peace — if, for 
example, they should halt or stumble, they were 
to be assured that the king, like a prince of justice, 
would so severely punish them for their inexcus- 
able apathy that all the world beside would take 
warning and beware, contrary to their due alle- 
giance, how they disobeyed the lawful command- 
ment of their Sovereign Lord and Prince in such 
things. On the other hand, if they were true and 
faithful in the execution of their duty, it was au- 
thoritatively and right royally asserted that "they 
should thus advance the honor of God Almighty," 
and, what was obviously of more importance, " the 
imperial dignity of their High and Mighty Sov- 
ereign Lord." 

Three priors of three Carthusian Monasteries 
were foremost in boldly resisting the claim of the 
spiritual supremacy made by the king when the 
oath was legalized. One was John Houghton, pri- 
or of London ; another Robert Lawrence, prior of 
Beauvalle ; and the third Augustine Webster, pri- 
or of Axholme. The charge against them was 
that they had asserted that " the king, our Sover- 
eign Lord, is not Supreme Head on Earth of the 
Church of England." This was reported generally, 
and, reaching the ears of King Henry, made him 
not simply angry, but furious. 



116 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

On hearing this, the three priors, in their sim- 
plicity, sought an interview with Cromwell, asking 
his aid, as Vicar-General, in obtaining some miti- 
gation of the terms of the oath. In reply to this 
request "he at once ordered them to the Tower. 
After they had been there a week, the Vicar-Gen- 
eral arrived to tender the oath anew, to urge upon 
them an immediate acceptance of the new royal 
supremacy, and a formal renunciation of the Pope's 
ancient and hitherto recognized authority. 

They promised to accept everything which was 
in harmony with, and permitted by the law of 
God. 

"I will have no exceptions," replied the Vicar- 
General. " It must be done whether the law of 
God allows it or not." 

" But the Church Universal teaches quite a con- 
trary doctrine," replied the spokesman of the pri- 
ors. 

"What care I for the Church Universal?" was 
Cromwell's retort. "Will you take the oath or 
not 1 " 

They declined, quietly and firmly, to do so, and 
were consequently put on their trial for high trea- 
son. 

This took place at Westminster, on the 29th of 
April, 1535, when they were speedily convicted, 



THE TRUTH A]S T D BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 117 

drawn to the gallows, hanged, cut down alive, dis- 
membered, and then quartered. 

The death of the holy and faithful man, Cardi- 
nal John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, and that of 
the upright and noble Sir Thomas More, some time 
Lord Chancellor, two men most favored for learn- 
ing, integrity, and true religion in England, gave a 
shock to the people which was both acute and se- 
vere. The zeal on behalf of, and personal devotion 
to the king shown by Fisher had been great. He 
nobly rebuked the king, both as regards religion 
and morals. The absurd and ridiculous supremacy 
recently invented he utterly condemned; to the 
divorce of Queen Katherine he gave the most un- 
compromising resistance, in return for which, after 
fifteen months' imprisonment, where he was treated 
like a common felon, buried in filth, and almost 
destitute of food and clothing, he perished nobly 
at the block. 

As regards Sir Thomas More, after trial had, he 
was condemned as a traitor and a rebel. . On the 
6th of July he suffered death. When on the 
scaffold, after prayer, he called the people to wit- 
ness that he died in the Catholic faith, and par- 
doned the executioner, there rose a chilling shud- 
der through the crowd (though many of the myr- 
midons of Cromwell were there), which repre- 



118 TEIBUTES OF PEOTESTAISTT WEITEES TO 

sented the general feeling of alarm, sorrow, and 
shame which the people of England experienced 
when they heard of the tragedy. Foreign nations, 
likewise, were utterly horrified at the frightful bru- 
talities of the royal monster. 

Cromwell's early experience of, and intercourse 
with, the lower classes of the continent with whom 
he had mixed freely during his sojourn there, as 
well as his observance of the ruder, but dexterous, 
tactics of the first foreign reformers, no doubt led 
him to take several leaves out of their books in 
his work of reformation. He had noticed that the 
popular ballad-singers of foreign countries exer- 
cised a vast influence over the people, more especi- 
ally in periods of religious and political excite- 
ment ; and that certain irreligious innovators there, 
by the use of lewd parodies, jocose verses, and ri- 
bald ballads, sung in street, tavern, and ale-house, 
had succeeded in efficiently weakening the old 
faith, which they had by these means brought into 
disrepute, and had so ridiculed sacred practices 
which the Church of God had enjoined and Chris- 
tians had obediently and profitably observed for 
centuries, that Cromwell resolved to adopt the use 
of such literature and co-operatora for the purpose 
of " reform " in England. 

This man, then, was the great patron of ribaldry, 



THE TEUTH AM BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 119 

and the protector of the ribald, of the low jester, 
the filthy ballad-monger, the ale-house singers and 
hypocritical mockers in feasts ; in short, in an 
indirect but yet efficient mode, of all the blas- 
phemous mocking and scoffing which disgraced 
the Protestant party at the time of the Reforma- 
tion. " It is of great consequence," wrote the late 
Dr. Maitland, " in our view of the times, to con- 
sider that the vile publications, of which too many 
remain, while most have rotted, and the profane 
pranks which were performed were not the out- 
break, of low, ignorant artisans, a rabble of hungry 
dogs, such as is sure to run after a party in spite 
even of sticks and stones bestowed by those whom 
they follow and disgrace. It was the result of de- 
sign and policy, earnestly and elaborately pursued 
by the man possessing, for all such purposes, the 
highest place and power in the land." 

At the same time the ungodly and the frivolous 
in provincial cities and country towns were sys- 
tematically enlisted on the side of the innovators. 
In many places where interest in the old and pop- 
ular miracle plays had been weakened or lost, by 
which the many had been taught by the eye as 
well as by the ear, Cromwell's perambulating allies 
became active in supplying a new kind of public 
entertainment more in harmony with the current 



120 TRIBUTES OF PROTEST AXT WRITERS TO 

depraved taste. Satire of the religious orders, a 
most popular subject for discussion, became com- 
mon, and might be heard in ordinary conversation 
on all sides. Consequently, when plays, interludes, 
and farces, caricaturing the monks and religion, 
were performed in churchyards and sometimes 
even in churches by strolling players, equipped at 
head-quarters, the dialogues of which performances 
were often gross and the phrases of double-mean- 
ing numerous, the excited people flocked to wit- 
ness the novel entertainments and to applaud and 
fee the actors. 

As Jeremy Collier put on record in his " Ecclesi- 
astical History of England": "The clergy com- 
plained, as they had reason, against such licentious 
sport. This, they said, was the way to let in 
atheism, and make all religion a jest ; for, if peo- 
ple were allowed to burlesque devotion and make 
themselves merry with the ceremonies of the 
Church, they would proceed to further extremities 
and laugh the nation out of their creed at last." 

Like his master, TYolsey, Cromwell had risen 
rapidly to fame and distinction ; and like him was 
doomed to become an example of the instability 
and uncertainty of human greatness, attained, as 
in his case, by an utter sacrifice of true and noble 
principles. 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 121 

Those who were most observant saw unmistak- 
able tokens of Cromwell's fall. The king's manner 
toward him had changed altogether. His majesty 
now showed marked signs of contempt, which were 
noticed by many of the courtiers. The people, 
who had lost so much by his policy, were loud in 
their murmurings ; nor were the aristocracy other- 
wise than heartily indignant with him. It was 
noticed that he was frequently alone. Old allies 
avoided him. He was often left silent and solitary 
— suitable prelude of his fall and death. 

The king, ever capricious, was eminently so in 
this case. Cromwell, self-willed, resolute, and un- 
scrupulous as he was, had been only too ready a 
tool in all his grace's dark and questionable de- 
signs, and certainly deserved better and fairer 
treatment from his royal master. But the arm of 
God Almighty was not shortened ; and punish- 
ment from on high, so well deserved, was soon to 
fall upon him. 

On the 10th of June, 1540, he was arrested by 
the Duke of Norfolk at the Council Chamber, 
when least expecting any such proceeding ; and 
he was at once committed to the Tower. 

Cromwell exerted all his interest to prolong a 
life spent in crime. In prison his conduct was the 
very reverse of that of those noble victims of his 
6 



122 TRIBUTES OP PROTESTANT WRITERS. 

shameful policy, who with uplifted hands prayed 
fervently to God for their persecutors. From his 
own lips came little else but curses and impreca- 
tions for his enemies. 

The day of vengeance was slowly drawing near. 
The desolated sanctuaries cried to heaven for Crom- 
well's due punishment. The woes and sorrows of 
outcast monks and nuns, wandering and weary, 
were not forgotten by an all-just and righteous 
God. " Vengeance is Mine ; I will repay, saith 
the Lord." Within forty-eight days of the Earl's 
arrest, he received his due reward. 

He laid his head on the block. At the execu- 
tioner's second stroke it was severed from his body, 
and rolled on to the straw around, leaving a bloody 
track. So died this man ; the crowd witnessed his 
end without sorrow or sympathy. No man who 
has thus suffered, suffered more properly. Eng- 
land was well rid of one who thoroughly deserved 

his fate. 

Bev. Frederick George Lee, 

Historical Sketches of the Reformation. 



THE TRIAL AND EXECUTION OF MARY 
QUEEN OF SCOTS. 



On the 25th of September, 1586, Mary had been 
taken from Chartley to the castle of Fotheringay, 
in Northamptonshire, where she was more strictly 
watched than ever by Sir Amias Paulet, who was 
a harsh and inflexible jailor. On the 11th of Oc- 
tober, Elizabeth's commissioners arrived, the great 
hall of the castle having been previously fitted up 
as a court-room for their reception. They would 
have proceeded with the trial immediately ; but a 
difficulty occurred, which, though they scarcely 
can have failed to anticipate, they were not pre- 
pared to obviate. Mary refused to acknowledge 
their jurisdiction, denying that they possessed any 
right to either arraign or try her. " I am no sub- 
ject to Elizabeth," she said, "but an independent 
queen as well as she ; and I will consent to nothing 
unbecoming the majesty of a crowned head. 
Worn out as my body is, my mind is not yet so 
enfeebled as to make me forget what is due to 
myself, my ancestors, and my country. Whatever 

(123) 



124 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

the laws of England may be, I am not subject to 
them ; for I came into the realm only to ask assist- 
ance from a sister queen, and I have been detained 
an unwilling prisoner." For two days the com- 
missioners labored in vain to induce Mary to ap- 
pear before them ; and as she assigned reasons for 
refusing which it was impossible for fair argument 
to invalidate, recourse was at length had to threats. 
They told her that they would proceed with the 
trial whether she consented to be present or not ; 
and that, though they were anxious to hear her 
justification, they would nevertheless conclude that 
she was guilty, and pronounce accordingly, if she 
refused to defend herself. It would have been 
well had Mary allowed them to take their own 
way ; but conscious that she was accused unjustly, 
she could not bear to think that she excited sus- 
picion by refusing the opportunity of establishing 
her innocence. Actuated by this honorable motive, 
she at length yielded, after solemnly protesting 
that she did not, and never would, acknowledge 
the authority which Elizabeth arrogated over her. 
On the 14th of October the trial commenced. 
The upper half of the great hall of Fotheringay 
Castle was railed off, and at the higher end was 
placed a chair of state under a canopy, for the 
Queen of England. Upon both sides of the room 






THE TRUTH A1TO BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 125 

benches were arranged in order, where the Lord 
Chancellor Bromley, the Lord Treasurer Burleigh, 
fourteen earls, thirteen barons and knights, and 
members of the privy council sat. In the centre 
was a table, at which the lord chief-justice, several 
doctors of the civil law, Popham, the queen's at- 
torney, her solicitors, sergeants, and notaries, took 
their places. At the foot of this table, and imme- 
diately opposite Elizabeth's chair of state, a chair 
without any canopy was placed for the Queen of 
Scots. Behind was the rail which ran across the 
hall, the lower part of which was fitted up for the 
accommodation of persons who were not in the 
commission. 

There was never, perhaps, an occasion through- 
out the whole of Mary's life on which she appeared 
to greater advantage than this. In the presence 
of all the pomp, learning, and talents of England, 
she stood alone and undaunted; evincing, in the 
modest dignity of her bearing, a mind conscious 
of its own integrity, and superior to the malice of 
fortune. Elizabeth's craftiest lawyers and ablest 
politicians were assembled to probe her to the 
quick, — to press home every argument against her 
which ingenuity could devise and eloquence em- 
bellish, — to dazzle her with a blaze of erudition, or 
involve her in a maze of technical perplexities. 



126 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

Mary had no counsellor — no adviser — no friend. 
Her very papers to which she might wish to refer 
had been taken from her ; and there was not one 
to plead her cause, or to defend her innocence. 
Yet she was not dismayed. She knew that she 
had a higher judge than Elizabeth ; and that great 
as was the array of lords and barons that appeared 
against her, posterity was greater than they, and 
that to its decision all things would be finally re- 
ferred. Her bodily infirmities imparted only a 
greater lustre to her mental pre-eminence ; and 
not in all the fascinating splendor of her youth 
and beauty — in the morning of her first bridal day, 
when Paris rang with acclamations in her praise — 
was Mary Stuart so much to be admired, as when, 
weak and worn out, she stood calmly before the 
myrmidons of a rival queen to hear and refute 
their unjust accusations, her eye radiant once more 
with the brilliancy of earlier years, and the placid 
benignity of a serene conscience lending to her 
countenance its undying grace. 

Elizabeth's attorney-general opened the plead- 
ings. He began by referring to the act of Parlia- 
ment in which it was made capital to be the per- 
son for whom any design was undertaken against 
the life of the queen. He then described the late 
conspiracy, and attempted to establish Mary's con- 



THE TKTTTH AKD BEAUTY OE CATHOLICITY. 127 

nection with it, by producing copies of letters 
which he alleged she had written to Babington 
himself and several of his accomplices. To these 
having added letters from Babington to her, and 
the declarations and confessions which had been 
extorted from her secretaries, he asserted that the 
cause was made out, and wound up his speech with 
a labored display of legal knowledge and forensic 
oratory. 

Mary was now called on for defence ; and she 
entered on it with composure and dignity. She 
denounced all connection with Babington's con- 
spiracy, in so far as she entertained any design 
injurious to Elizabeth's safety or the welfare of 
her kingdom ; she allowed that the letters which 
he was said to have addressed to her might be 
genuine, but it had not been proved that she ever 
received them ; she maintained that her own let- 
ters were all garbled or fabricated ; that as to the 
confessions of her secretaries, they had been ex- 
torted by fear, and were therefore not to be cred- 
ited ; but that if they were in any particulars true, 
these particulars must have been disclosed at the 
expense of the oath of fidelity they had come 
under to her when they entered her service, and 
that men who would perjure themselves in one in- 
stance were not to be trusted in any ; she objected 



128 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

besides that they had not been confronted with 
her according to an express law enacted in the 
thirteenth year of Elizabeth's reign, " that no one 
should be arraigned for intending the destruction 
of the prince's life, but by the testimony and oath 
of two lawful witnesses, to be produced face to 
face before Mm "/ she maintained, that even sup- 
posing she were to allow the authenticity of many 
of the papers adduced against her, they would not 
prove her guilty of any crime ; for she was surely 
doing no wrong, if, after a calamitous captivity of 
nineteen years, in which she had lost forever her 
youth, her health, and her happiness, she made 
one last effort to regain the liberty of which she 
had been so unfairly robbed ; but as to scheming 
against the life of the queen her sister, it was an 
infamy she abhorred ; " I would disdain," she said, 
" to purchase all that is most valuable on earth by 
the assassination of the meanest of the human 
race ; and worn out, as I now am, with cares and 
suffering, the prospect of a crown is not so invit- 
ing that I should ruin my soul in order to obtain 
it. Neither am I a stranger to the feelings of hu- 
manity, nor unacquainted with the duties of re- 
ligion, and it is more in my nature to be more in- 
clined to the devotion of Esther than to the sword 
of Judith. If ever I have given consent by my 






TIIE TRUTH A1NT> BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 129 

words, or even by my thoughts, to any attempt 
against the life of the Queen of England, far from 
declining the judgment of men, I shall not even 
pray for the mercy of God." 

Elizabeth's advocates were not a little surprised 
at the eloquent and able manner in which Mary 
conducted her defence. They had expected to 
have everything their own way, and to gain an 
easy victory over one unacquainted with the forms 
of legal procedure, and unable to cope with their 
own professional talents. But they were disap- 
pointed and baffled ; and in order to maintain 
their ground even plausibly, they were obliged to 
protract the proceedings for two whole days. iNTor 
after all did the commissioners venture to pro- 
nounce judgment, but adjourned the court to the 
star-chamber at Westminster, where they knew 
that Mary would not be present, and consequently 
they would have no opposition to fear. * On the 
25th of October, they assembled there, and hav- 
ing again examined the secretaries Nau and Curl, 



* It deserves notice, that no particulars of the trial at 
Fotheringay have been recorded, either by Mary herself, or 
any of her friends, but are all derived from the narrative of 
two of Elizabeth's notaries. If Mary's triumph was so de- 
cided, even by their account, it may easily be conceived 
that it would have appeared still more complete had it been 
described by less partial writers. 
6* 



130 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

who appear to be persons of little fidelity or con- 
stancy, and who confirmed their former declara- 
tions, a unanimous judgment was delivered, that 
" Mary, commonly called Queen of Scots and dow- 
ager of France, was accessory to Babington's con- 
spiracy, and had compassed and imagined divers 
matters within the realm of England, tending to the 
hurt, death, and destruction of the royal person of 
Elizabeth, in opposition to the statute framed for 
her protection." 

In the meantime messengers had been sent to 
the Queen of Scots, to report to her the sentence 
of the commissioners, and to prepare her for the 
consequences which might be expected to follow. 
So far from receiving the news with dismay, Mary 
solemnly raised her hands to heaven, and thanked 
God that she was so soon to be relieved from her 
troubles. They were not yet, however, at a close ; 
and even during the short remainder of her life, 
she was still further insulted. Her keepers, Sir 
Amias Paulet and Sir Drue Drury, refused to treat 
her any longer with the reverence and respect due 
to her rank and sex. The canopy of state, which 
she had always ordered to be put up in her apart- 
ment wherever she went, was taken down, and every 
badge of royalty removed. It was intimated to 
her that she was no longer to be regarded as a 






THE TRUTH A1STD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 131 

princess, but as a criminal ; and the persons who 
came into her presence stood before her without 
uncovering their heads or paying her any obei- 
sance. The attendance of a Catholic priest was re- 
fused, and an Episcopalian bishop sent in his stead, 
to point out and correct the errors of her way. 
Mary bore all these indignities with a calm spirit, 
which rose superior to them and which proved 
their unworthiness, by bringing them into contrast 
with her own elevation of mind. " In spite of 
your sovereign and her subservient judges," she 
said, " I will die a queen. My royal character is 
indelible, and I will surrender it with my spirit to 
the Almighty God, from whom I received it, and 
to whom my honor and my innocence are fully 
known." In December, 1586, she wrote her last 
letter to Elizabeth ; and though from an unfriended 
prisoner to an envied and powerful sovereign, it 
evinces so much magnanimity and calm conscious- 
ness of mental serenity, that it is impossible to pe- 
ruse it without confessing Elizabeth's inferiority 
and Mary's triumph. It was couched in the fol- 
lowing terms : 

" Madam, I thank God from the bottom of my 
heart that, by the sentence which has been passed 
against me, he is about to put an end to my tedi- 
ous pilgrimage. I would not wish it prolonged, 



182 TEIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

though it were in my power, having had enough 
of time to experience its bitterness. I write at 
present only to make three last requests, which, as 
I can expect no favour from your implacable min- 
isters, I should wish to owe to your majesty and to 
no other. First, as in England I can not hope to 
be buried according to the solemnities of the Cath- 
olic Church (the religion of the ancient kings, your 
ancestors and mine, being now changed), and as in 
Scotland they have already violated the ashes of 
my progenitors, I have to request, that as soon as 
my enemies have bathed their hands in my inno- 
cent blood, my domestics may be allowed to inter 
my body in some consecrated ground ; and above 
all, that they be permitted to carry it to France, 
where the bones of the queen, my most honoured 
mother, repose. Thus, that poor frame which has 
never enjoyed repose so long as it has been joined 
to my soul, may find it at last when they will 
be separated. Second, as I dread the tyranny of 
the harsh men to whose power you have abandoned 
me, I entreat your majesty that I may not be exe- 
cuted in secret, but in the presence of my servants 
and other persons who may bear testimony of my 
faith and fidelity to the true church, and guard 
the last hours of my life and my last sighs from 
false rumours which my adversaries may spread 



THE TEUTH ATNT) BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 133 

abroad. Thirds I request that my domestics, who 
have served me through so much misery and with 
so much constancy, may be allowed to retire with- 
out molestation wherever they choose, to enjoy 
for the remainder of their lives the small legacies 
which my poverty has enabled me to bequeath to 
them. I conjure you, madam, by the blood of 
Jesus Christ, by our consanguinity, by the memory 
of Henry VII., our common father, and by the royal 
title which I carry with me to death, not to refuse 
these reasonable demands, but to assure me, by a 
letter under your own hand, that you will comply 
with them, and I shall then die as I have lived, 
your affectionate sister and prisoner, Mary Queen 
of Scots." 

Whether Elizabeth ever answered this letter does 
not appear ; but it produced so little effect, that 
epistles from her to Sir Amias Paulet still exist, 
which prove that in her anxiety to avoid taking 
upon herself the responsibility of Mary's death, she 
wished to have her privately assassinated or poi- 
soned. Paulet, however, though a harsh and vio- 
lent man, positively refused to sanction so nefari- 
ous a scheme. Yet in the very act of instigating 
murder, Elizabeth could close her eyes against her 
own iniquity, and affect indignation at the alleged 
offences of another. But perceiving, at length, 



134 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

that no alternative remained, she ordered her sec- 
retary, Davidson, to bring her the warrant for 
Mary's execution, and after perusing it, she delib- 
erately affixed her signature. She then desired 
him to carry it to Walsingham, saying, with an 
ironical smile, and in a "merry tone," that she 
feared he would die of grief when he saw it. Wal- 
singham sent the warrant to the chancellor, who 
affixed the great seal to it, and dispatched it by 
Beal, with a commission to the Earls of Shrews- 
bury, Kent, Derby, and others, to see it put in 
execution. Davidson was afterward made the vic- 
tim of Elizabeth's artifice, — who, to complete the 
solemn farce she had been playing, pretended he 
had obeyed her orders too quickly, and doomed 
him in consequence to perpetual imprisonment. 

On the 7th of February, 1578, the earls who had 
been commissioned to superintend Mary's execu- 
tion arrived at Fotheringay. After dinner togeth- 
er, they sent to inform the queen that they desired 
to speak with her. Mary was not well, and in bed ; 
but as she was given to understand that it was an 
affair of moment, she arose, and received them in 
her own chamber. Her six waiting-maids, together 
with her physician, her surgeon, and apothecary, 
and four or five male servants, were in attendance. 
The Earl of Shrewsbury, and the others associated 






THE TKUTH AJS T D BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 135 

with, him, standing before lier respectfully with 
their heads uncovered, communicated, as gently as 
possible, the disagreeable duty with which they 
had been entrusted. Beal was then desired to read 
the warrant for Mary's execution, to which she 
listened patiently ; and making the sign of the 
cross, she said, that though she was sorry it came 
from Elizabeth, she had long been expecting the 
mandate for her death, and was not unprepared to 
die. " For many years," she added, " I have lived 
in continual affliction, unable to do good to myself 
or to those who are dear to me ; as I shall depart 
innocent of the crime laid to my charge, I can not 
see why I should shrink from the prospect of im- 
mortality." She then laid her hand on the New 
Testament, and solemnly protested that she had 
never either devised, compassed, or consented to 
the death of the Queen of England. The Earl 
of Kent, with more zeal than wisdom, objected to 
the validity of this protestation, because it was 
made on a Catholic version of the Bible ; but Mary 
replied, that it was the version in the truth of 
which she believed, and that her oath should be 
therefore only the less liable to suspicion. She 
was advised to hold some godly conversation with 
the Dean of Peterborough, whom they had brought 
with them to console her ; but she declined the 



136 TEIBUTES OF PROTESTAISTT WRITERS TO 

offer, declaring that slie would die in tlie faith in 
which she had lived, and beseeching them to allow 
her to see her Catholic confessor, who had been for 
some time debarred her presence. This, however 
they in their turn positively refused. 

Other topics were introduced, and casually dis- 
cussed. Before leaving the world, Mary felt a 
natural curiosity to be informed upon several sub- 
jects of public interest, which, though connected 
with herself, and generally known, had not pene- 
trated the walls of her prison. She asked if no 
foreign princess had interfered in her behalf, — if 
her secretaries were still alive, — if it was intended 
to punish them as well as her, — if they brought no 
letters from Elizabeth or others ; and, above all, if 
her son, the King of Scotland, was well, and had 
evinced any interest in the fate of a mother who 
had always loved and never wronged him. Being 
satisfied upon these points, she proceeded to in- 
quire when her execution was to take place. 
Shrewsbury replied that it was fixed for the next 
morning at eight. She appeared startled and agi- 
tated for a few minutes, saying that it was more 
sudden than she had anticipated, and that she had 
yet to make her will, which she had hitherto de- 
ferred, in expectation that the papers and letters 
which had been forcibly taken from her would be 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 137 

restored. Slie soon, however, regained tier self- 
possession ; and informing the commissioners that 
she desired to be left alone to make her prepara- 
tions, she dismissed them for the night, 

During the whole of this scene, astonishment, 
indignation, and grief overwhelmed her attendants, 
all of whom were devoted to her. As soon as the 
earls and their retinue retired, they gave fall vent 
to their feelings, and Mary herself was the only 
one who remained calm and undisturbed. Mary 
told them that she must submit with resignation 
to her fate, and learn to regard it as the will of 
God. She then requested her attendants to kneel 
with her, and she prayed fervently for some time 
in the midst of them. Afterward, while supper 
was preparing, she emptied all the money she had 
by her into separate purses, and affixed to each, 
with her own hand, the name of the person for 
whom she intended it. At supper, though she sat 
down to table, she ate little. Her mind, however, 
was in perfect composure ; and during the repast, 
though she spoke little, placid smiles were fre- 
quently observed to pass over her countenance. 
The calm magnanimity of their mistress only in- 
creased the distress of her servants. They saw her 
sitting among them in her usual health, and with 
almost more than her usual cheerfulness, partak- 



138 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

ing of the viands that were set before her ; yet 
they knew that it was the last meal at which they 
should ever be present together ; and that the in- 
terchange of affectionate service upon their part, 
and condescending attention and endearing gentle- 
ness on hers, which had linked them to her for so 
many years, was now about to terminate forever. 

Far from attempting to offer her consolation, 
they were unable to discover any for themselves. 
As soon as the melancholy meal was over, Mary 
desired that a cup of wine should be given to her ; 
and putting it to her lips, drank to the health of 
each of her attendants by name. She requested 
that they would pledge her in like manner ; and 
each, falling on his knee, and mingling tears with 
the wine, drank to her, asking pardon at the same 
time for all the faults he had ever committed. In 
the true spirit of Christian humility, she not only 
willingly forgave them, but asked their pardon 
also, if she had ever forgotten her duty toward 
them. She besought them to continue constant to 
their religion, and to live in peace and charity to- 
gether, and with all men. The inventory of her 
wardrobe and furniture was then brought to her ; 
and she wrote in the margin opposite each article 
the name of the person to whom she wished it 
should be given. She did the same with her rings, 



THE TEUTH A1S T D BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 139 

jewels, and all lier most valuable trinkets ; and 
there was not one of her friends or servants, either 
present or absent, to whom she forgot to leave a 
memorial. 

These duties being discharged, Mary sat down 
to her desk to arrange her papers, to finish her 
will, and write several letters. She previously sent 
to her confessor, who, though in the castle, was not 
allowed to see her, entreating that he would spend 
the night in prayer for her, and that he would in- 
form her what parts of the Scripture he considered 
most suited for her perusal at this juncture. She 
then drew up her last will and testament ; and 
without ever lifting her pen from the paper, or 
stopping at intervals to think, she covered two 
large sheets with close writing, forgetting nothing 
of any moment, and expressing herself with all 
that precision and clearness which distinguished 
her style in the very happiest moments of her life. 
She named as her four executors — the Duke of 
Guise, her cousin-german ; the Archbishop of Glas- 
gow, her ambassador to France ; Lesley, Bishop of 
Ross ; and Monsieur de Ruysseau, her chancellor. 
She next wrote to her brother-in-law, the King of 
France, in which she apologized for not being able 
to enter into her affairs at greater length, as she 
had only an hour or two to live, and had not been 



140 TRIBUTES OF PROTEST AOT WRITERS TO 

informed till that day after dinner that she was to 
be executed next morning. " Thanks be unto God, 
however/ 5 she added, " I have no terror at the idea 
of death, and solemnly declare to you, that I meet 
it innocent of every crime. The bearer of this let- 
ter, and my other servants, will recount to you how 
I comported myself in my last moments." The let- 
ter concluded with earnest entreaties that her faith- 
ful followers should be protected and rewarded. 
Her anxiety on their account at such a moment 
indicated all that amiable generosity of disposition 
which was one of the leading features of Mary's 
character.* About two in the morning she sealed 
up all her papers, and said she would now think 
no more of the affairs of this world, but would 
spend the rest of her time in prayer and commune 
with her own conscience. She went to bed for 
some hours, but did not sleep. Her lips were 
observed in continual motion, and her hands were 
frequently folded and lifted up toward heaven. 

On the morning of Wednesday, the 8th of Feb- 
ruary, Mary rose with the break of day ; and her 
domestics, who had watched and wept all night, 



* "Mary's testament and letters," says Ritson, the anti- 
quarian, ' ' which I have seen, blotted with her tears, in the 
Scotch College, Paris, will remain perpetual monuments of 
her singular abilities, tenderness, and affection. ' 



THE TKTTTH AKD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 141 

immediately gathered round her. She told them 
that she had made her will, and requested that 
they would see it safely deposited in the hands of 
her executors. She likewise besought them not 
to separate until they had carried her body to 
France ; and she placed a sum of money in the 
hands of her physician to defray the expenses of 
the journey. Her earnest desire was to be buried 
either in the church of St. Denis, in Paris, beside 
her first husband, Francis, or at Rheims, in the 
tomb which contained the remains of her mother. 
She expressed a wish, too, that besides her friends 
and servants, a number of poor people and children 
from the different hospitals should be present at 
her funeral, clothed in mourning at her expense, 
and each, according to the Catholic custom, carry- 
ing in his hand a lighted taper. 

She now renewed her devotions, and was in the 
midst of them, when a messenger from the commis- 
sioners knocked at the door, to announce that all 
was ready. She requested a little longer time to 
finish her prayers, which was granted. As soon 
as she desired the door to be opened, the sheriff, 
carrying in his hand the white wand of office, en- 
tered to conduct her to the place of execution. 
Her servants crowded round her, and insisted on 
being allowed to accompany her to the scaffold. 



142 TEIBUTES OF PEOTESTANT WEITEES TO 

But a contrary order having been given by Eliza- 
beth, they were told that she must proceed alone. 
Against such a piece of arbitrary cruelty they re- 
monstrated loudly, but in vain ; for as soon as 
Mary passed into the gallery, the door was closed, 
and believing that they were separated from her 
forever, the shrieks of the women and the scarcely 
less audible lamentations of the men were heard in 
distant parts of the castle. 

At the foot of the staircase leading down to the 
hall below, Mary was met by the Earls of Kent and 
Shrewsbury ; and she was allowed to stop to take 
farewell of Sir Anthony Melvil, the master of her 
household, whom her keeper had not allowed to 
come into her presence for some time before. With 
tears in his eyes Melvil knelt before her, kissed her 
hand, and declared that it was the heaviest hour of 
his life. Mary assured him that it was not so with 
her. " I now feel, my good Melvil," she said, " that 
this world is vanity. When you speak of me here- 
after, mention that I died firm in my faith, willing 
to forgive my enemies, conscious that I had never 
disgraced Scotland, my native country, and rejoic- 
ing in the thought that I had been true to France, 
the land of my happiest years. Tell my son," she 
added, — and when she named her only child, of 
whom she had been so proud in his infancy, but 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 143 

in whom all her hopes had been so fatally blasted, 
her feelings for the first time overpowered her, 
and a flood of tears flowed from her eyes, — " tell 
my son that I thought of him in my last moments, 
and that I have never yielded, either by word or deed, 
to aught that might lead to his prejudice ; desire 
him to preserve the memory of his unfortunate 
parent, and may he be a thousand times more 
happy and more prosperous than she has been." 

Before taking leave of Melvil, Mary turned to 
the commissioners, and told them that her three 
last requests were, that her secretary Curl, whom 
she blamed less for his treachery than Nau, should 
not be punished; that her servants should have 
free permission to depart for France ; and that 
some of them should be allowed to come down 
from the apartments above to see her die. The 
earls answered, that they believed the two former 
of these requests would be granted ; but that they 
could not concede the last, alleging, as their ex- 
cuse, that the affliction of her attendants would 
only add to the severity of her suffering. But 
Mary was resolved that some of her own people 
should witness her last moments. "I will not 
submit to the indignity," she said, " of permitting 
my body to fall into the hands of strangers. You 
are the servants of a maiden queen, and she her- 



144 TRIBUTES OF PEOTESTAXT WRITERS TO 

self, were she here, would yield to the dictates 
of humanity, and permit some of those who have 
been so long faithful to me. to assist me at my 
death. Remember, too, that I am cousin to your 
mistress, and the descendant of Henry VJLL ; I am 
the dowager of France, and the anointed queen of 
Scotland." Ashamed of any further opposition, 
the earls allowed her to name four male and two 
female attendants, whom they sent for, and per- 
mitted to remain beside her for the short time she 
had yet to live. 

The same hall in which the trial had taken place 
was prepared for the execution. At the upper end 
was the scaffold, covered with black cloth, and ele- 
vated about two feet from the floor. A chair was 
placed on it for the Queen of Scots. On one side 
of the block stood two executioners, and on the 
other the Earls of Kent and Shrewsbury ; Beal 
and the sheriff were immediately behind. The 
scaffold was railed off from the rest of the hall, in 
which Sir Amias Paulet with a bodyguard, the 
other commissioners, and some gentlemen of the 
neighborhood, amounting altogether to about two 
hundred persons, were assembled. Mary entered, 
leaning on the arm of her physician, while Sir 
Andrew Melvil carried the train of her robe. She 
was in full dress, and looked as if she were about 






THE TETJTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 145 

to hold a drawing-room, not to lay her head be- 
neath the axe. She wore a gown of black silk, 
bordered with crimson velvet, over which was a 
satin mantle ; a long veil of white crape, stiffened 
with wire, and edged with rich lace, hung down 
almost to the ground ; round her neck was sus- 
pended an ivory crucifix, and the beads which 
Catholics use in their prayers were fastened to her 
girdle. The symmetry of her fine figure had long 
been destroyed by her sedentary life ; and years 
of care had left many a trace on her beautiful fea- 
tures. But the dignity of the queen was still ap- 
parent ; and the calm grace of mental serenity im- 
parted to her countenance at least some share of 
its former loveliness. With a composed and steady 
step she passed through the hall, and ascended 
the scaffold — and as she listened unmoved while 
Beal read aloud the warrant for her death, even 
the myrmidons of Elizabeth looked upon her with 
admiration. 

Beal having finished, the Dean of Peterborough 
presented himself at the foot of the scaffold, and 
with more zeal than humanity addressed Mary on 
the subject of her religion. She mildly told him 
that she was resolved to die a Catholic, and re- 
quested that he would not annoy her any longer 
with useless reasonings. But finding that he would 



146 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

not be persuaded to desist, she turned away from 
Mm, and falling on her knees, prayed fervently 
aloud — repeating, in particular, many passages 
from the Psalms. She prayed for her own soul, 
and that God would send His Holy Spirit to com- 
fort her in the agony of death ; she prayed for all 
good monarchs, for the Queen of England, for the 
king her son, for her friends, and for all her ene- 
mies. She spoke with a degree of earnest vehe- 
mence and occasional strength of gesticulation 
which deeply affected all who heard her. She held 
a small crucifix in her hands, which were clasped 
and raised to heaven ; and at intervals a convul- 
sive sob choked her voice. As soon as her prayers 
were ended, she prepared to lay her head on the 
block. Her two female attendants, as they assisted 
her to remove her veil and headdress, trembled so 
violently that they were hardly able to stand. 
Mary gently reproved them — " Be not thus over- 
come," she said ; " I am happy to leave the world, 
and you also ought to be happy to see me die so 
willingly." As she bared her neck, she took from 
around it a gold cross, which she wished to give to 
Jane Kennedy ; but the executioner with brutal 
coarseness objected, alleging that it was one of his 
perquisites. " My good friend," said Mary, " she 
will pay you more than its value"; but his only 



THE TKTTTH AKD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 147 

answer was, to snatch it rudely from her hand. 
She turned from him to pronounce a parting bene- 
diction on all her servants, and bid them affection- 
ately farewell. Being now ready, she desired Jane 
Kennedy to bind her eyes with a rich handker- 
chief, bordered with gold, w T hich she had brought 
with her for the purpose ; and laying her head 
upon the block, her last words were, " O Lord, in 
Thee I have hoped, and into Thy hands I commit 
my spirit." The executioner, either from a want 
of skill, or from agitation, or because the axe he 
used was blunt, struck three blows before he sepa- 
rated her head from her body. His comrade then 
lifted the head by the hair (which falling in dis- 
order, was observed to be quite gray), and called 
out, " God save Elizabeth, Queen of England ! " 
The Earl of Kent added, " Thus perish all her ene- 
mies"; but, overpowered by the solemnity and 
horror of the scene, none were able to respond, 
" Amen ! " 

Mary's remains were immediately taken from 
her servants, who wished to pay them the last sad 
offices of affection, and were carried into an ad- 
joining apartment, where a piece of green baize, 
taken from a billiard-table, was thrown over that 
form which had once lived in the light of a na- 
tion's eyes. It lay thus for some time ; but was at 



148 TEIBUTES OF PEOTESTAKT WEITEES TO 

length ordered to be embalmed, and buried with 
royal pomp in the cathedral at Peterborough — a 
vulgar artifice used by Elizabeth to stifle the gnaw- 
ing remorse of her own conscience, and make an 
empty atonement for her cruelty. Twenty-five 
years afterward, James "VI., wishing to perform an 
act of tardy justice to the memory of his mother, 
ordered her remains to be removed from Peter- 
borough to Henry VII. 's chapel in Westminster 
Abbey. 

Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, died in the forty- 
fifth year of her age. The estimate which is to be 
formed of her character can not be a matter of 
much doubt. The deliberate judgment of calm 
impartiality, not of hasty enthusiasm, must be, 
that, illustrious as her birth and rank were, she 
possessed virtues and talents which not only made 
her independent of the former, but raised her 
above them. In her better days, the vivacity and 
sweetness of her manners, her openness, her can- 
dor, her generosity, her polished wit, her extensive 
information, her cultivated taste, her easy affability, 
her powers of conversation, her native dignity and 
grace were all conspicuous, though too little ap- 
preciated by the less refined frequenters of the 
Scottish Court. ISTor did she appear to less ad- 
vantage in the season of calamity. On the con- 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 149 

trary, slie had an opportunity of displaying in ad- 
versity a fortitude and nobility of soul, which, she 
herself might not have known that she possessed 
had she been always prosperous. Her piety and 
her constancy became more apparent in a prison 
than on a throne ; and of none could it be said 
more truly than of her, " ponderibus virtus innata 
resist it." In the glory of victory and the pride of 
success, it is easy for a conquering monarch to 
float down the stream of popularity ; but it is a far 
more arduous task to gain a victory over the nat- 
ural weaknesses of one's own nature, and in the 
midst of sufferings to triumph over one's enemies. 
Mary did this, and was a thousand times more to 
be envied when kneeling at her solitary devotions 
in the castle of Fotheringay, than Elizabeth sur- 
rounded with all the heartless splendor of Hamp- 
ton Court. As she laid her head upon the block, 
the dying graces threw upon her their last smiles ; 
and the sublime serenity of her death was an ar- 
gument in her favor, the force of which must 
be confessed by incredulity itself. Mary was not 
destined to obtain the crown of England, but she 
gained instead the crown of martyrdom. 

Heistey Glassfokd Bell, 
Life of Mary Queen of Scots. 



CARDINAL NEWMAN. 



My Dear : My present letter will be given 

to a single figure. When I entered at Oxford, 
John Henry Newman was beginning to be famous. 
The responsible authorities were watching him 
with anxiety ; clever men were looking with inter- 
est and curiosity on the apparition among them of 
one of those persons of indisputable genius who 
was likely to make a mark upon his time. His ap- 
pearance was striking. He was above the middle 
height, slight and spare. His head was large, his 
face remarkably like that of Julius Caesar. The 
forehead, the shape of the ears and nose were al- 
most the same. The lines of the mouth were very 
peculiar, and I should say exactly the same. I have 
often thought of the resemblance, and believed 
that it extended to the temperament. In both 
there was an original force of character which re- 
fused to be molded by circumstances, which was to 
make its own way, and become a power in the 
world ; a clearness of intellectual perception, a dis- 
dain for conventionalities, a temper imperious and 

(150) 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 151 

wilful, but along with it a most attaching gentle- 
ness, sweetness, singleness of heart and purpose. 
Both were formed by nature to command others, 
both had the faculty of attracting to themselves 
the passionate devotion of their friends and fol- 
lowers. 

When I first saw him he had written his book 
upon the Arians. An accidental application had 
set him upon it, at a time, I believe, when he had 
half resolved to give himself to science and mathe- 
matics, and had so determined him into a theolog- 
ical career. He had published a volume or two of 
parochial sermons. A few short poems of his had 
also appeared in the British Magazine, under the 
signature of " Delta," which were reprinted in the 
"Lyra Apostolica." They were unlike any other 
religious poetry which was then extant. It was 
hard to say why they were so fascinating. They 
had none of the musical grace of the " Christian 
Year." They were not harmonious ; the metre 
halted, the rhymes were irregular, yet there was 
something in them which seized the attention, and 
would not let it go. Keble's verses flowed in soft 
cadence over the mind, delightful, as sweet sounds 
are delightful, but are forgotten as the vibrations 
die away. Newman's had pierced into the heart 
and mind, and there remained. The literary critics 



152 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

of the day were puzzled. They saw that he was 
not an ordinary man : what soil: of an extraor- 
dinary man he was they could not tell. "The 
eye of Melpomene had been cast upon him,' 3 said 
the omniscient (I think) Athenaeum : "but the 
glance was not fixed or steady." The eye of Mel- 
pomene had extremely little to do in the matter. 
Here were thoughts like no other man's thoughts, 
and emotions like no other man's emotions. Here 
was a man who really believed his creed, and let 
it follow him into all his observations upon out- 
ward things. He had been travelling in Greece : 
he had carried with him his recollections of Thu- 
cydides. and. while his companions were sketching 
olive gardens and old castles and picturesque har- 
bors at Corfu. Xewman was recalling the scenes 
which those harbors had witnessed thousands of 
years ago in the civil wars which the Greek his- 
torian has made immortal. There was nothing in 
this that was unusual Any one with a well-stored 
memory is affected by historical scenery. But 
Xewman was oppressed with the sense that the 
men who had fallen in that desperate strife were 
still alive, as much as he and his friends were alive. 

Their spirits live in awful singleness, 
he says. 

Each in its self -formed sphere of light or gloom. 



THE TEUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 153 

VTe should all, perhaps, have acknowledged this 
in words. It is happy for us that we do not all 
realize what the words mean. The minds of most 
of us would break down under the strain. 

Other conventional beliefs, too, were quickened 
into startling realities. We had been hearing much 
in those days about the benevolence of the Su- 
preme Being, and our corresponding obligation to 
charity and philanthropy. If the received creed 
was true, benevolence was by no means the only 
characteristic of that Being. What God loved we 
might love ; but there were things which G-od did 
not love ; accordingly we found Newman saying 

to us : 

Christian, would'st thou learn to love ; 
First learn thee how to hate. 

Hatred of sin and zeal and fear 

Lead up the Holy Hill ; 
Track them, till charity appear 

A self-denial still. 

It was not austerity that made him speak so. No 
one was more essentially tender-hearted ; but he 
took the usually accepted Christian account of 
man and his destiny to be literally true, and the 
terrible character of it weighed upon him. 

Sunt lacrymse rerum et menteni niortalia tangnnt. 

He could be gentle enough in other moods. 
7* 



154 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

"Lead, kindly Light/' is the most popular hymn 
in the language. Familiar as the lines are they 
may here be written down once more : 

Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom 

Lead Thou me on. 
The night is dark, and I am far from home, 

Lead Thou me on. 
Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see 
Far distant scenes — one step, enough for me. 

I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou 

Should'st lead me on. 
I loved to choose and see my path ; but now 

Lead Thou me on. 
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears, 
Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years. 

So long Thy power has blest us, sure it will 

Still lead us on. 
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent,* till 

The night is gone, 
And with the morn those angel faces smile 
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile. 

It has been said that men of letters are either 
much less or much greater than their writings. 
Cleverness and the skilful use of other people's 
thoughts produce works which take us in till we 
see the authors, and then we are disenchanted. A 
man of genius, on the other hand, is a spring in 
which there is always more behind than flows from 
it. The painting or the poem is but a part of him 
inadequately realized, and his nature expresses it- 



THE TRUTH- AND BEAUTY OE CATHOLICITY. 155 

self, with equal or fuller completeness, in Ms life, 
liis conversation, and personal presence. This was 
eminently true of Newman. Greatly as his poetry 
had struck me, he was himself all that the poetry 
was, and something far beyond. I had then never 
seen so impressive a person. I met him now and 
then in private ; I attended his church and heard 
him preach Sunday after Sunday ; he is supposed 
to have been insidious, to have led his disciples on 
to conclusions to which he designed to bring them, 
while his purpose was carefully veiled. He was, on 
the contrary, the most transparent of men. He 
told us what he believed to be true. He did not 
know where it would carry him. No one who has 
ever risen tp any great height in this world refuses 
to move till he knows where he is going. He is 
impelled in each step which he takes by a force 
within himself. He satisfies himself only that the 
step is a right one, and he leaves the rest to Provi- 
dence. Newman's mind was world-wide. He was 
interested in everything which was going on in 
science, in politics, in literature. Nothing was too 
large for him, nothing too trivial, if it threw light 
upon the central question, what man really was, 
and what was his destiny. He was careless about 
his personal prospects. He had no ambition to 
make a career, or to rise to rank and power. Still 



156 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

less had pleasure any seductions for him. His 
natural temperament was bright and light ; his 
senses, even the commonest, were exceptionally 
delicate. He could admire enthusiastically any 
greatness of action and character, however remote 
the sphere of it from his own. Gurwood's " Dis- 
patches of the Duke of Wellington " came out 
just then. Newman had been reading the book, 
and a friend asked him what he thought of it. 
" Think ? " he said, " it makes one burn to have 
been a soldier." But his own subject was the ab- 
sorbing interest with him. 

With us undergraduates, Newman, of course, 
did not enter on important questions. He, when 
we met him, spoke to us about subjects of the day, 
of literature, of public persons, and incidents, of 
everything which was generally interesting. He 
seemed always to be better informed on common 
topics of conversation than any one else who was 
present. He was never condescending with us, 
never didactic or authoritative ; but what he said 
carried conviction along with it. When we were 
wrong he knew why we were wrong, and excused 
our mistakes to ourselves while he set us right. 
Perhaps his supreme merit as a talker was that he 
never tried to be witty or to say striking things. 
Ironical he could be, but not ill-natured. Not a 



THE TKUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 157 

malicious anecdote was ever heard from him. 
Prosy lie could not be. He was lightness itself — 
the lightness of elastic strength — and he was inter- 
esting because he never talked for talking's sake, 
but because he had something real to say. 

Thus it was that we, who had never seen such 
another man, and to whom he appeared, perhaps, 
at special advantage in contrast with the normal 
college don, came to regard Newman with the af- 
fection of pupils (though pupils, strictly speaking, 
he had none) for an idolized master. The simplest 
word which dropped from him was treasured as if 
it had been an intellectual diamond. 

Personal admiration, of course, inclined us to 
look to him as a guide in matters of religion. No 
one who heard his sermons in those days can ever 
forget them. They were seldom directly theolog- 
ical. We had theology enough and to spare from 
the select preachers before the university. New- 
man, taking some Scripture character for a text, 
spoke to us about ourselves, our temptations, our 
experiences. His illustrations were inexhaustible. 
He seemed to be addressing the most secret con- 
sciousness of each of us — as the eyes of a portrait 
appear to look at every person in a room. He 
never exaggerated ; he was never unreal. A ser- 
mon from him was a poem, formed on a distinct 



158 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

idea, fascinating by its subtlety, welcome — how 
welcome ! — from its sincerity, interesting from its 
originality, even to those who were careless of re- 
ligion ; and to others who wished to be religious, 
but had found religion dry and wearisome, it was 
like the springing of a fountain out of the rock. 

The hearts of men vibrate in answer to one an- 
other like the strings of musical instruments. 
These sermons were, I suppose, the records of New- 
man's own mental experience. They appear to me 
to be the outcome of continued meditation upon his 
fellow-creatures and their position in this world ; 
their awful responsibilities ; the mystery of their 
nature strangely mixed, of good and evil, of 
strength and weakness. A tone, not of fear, but 
of infinite pity, runs through them all, and along 
with it a resolution to look facts in the face ; not 
to fly to evasive generalities about infinite mercy 
and benevolence, but to examine what revelation 
really has added to our knowledge, either of what 
we are or of what lies before us. We were met on 
all sides with difficulties ; for experience did not 
confirm, it rather contradicted, what revelation ap- 
peared distinctly to assert. I recollect a sermon 
from him— I think in the year 1839 ; I have never 
read it since ; I may not now remember the exact 
words, but the impression left is ineffaceable. It 



THE TRUTH AtfD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 159 

was on the trials of faith, of which he gave differ- 
ent illustrations. He supposed, first, two children 
to be educated together, of similar temperament 
and under similar conditions, one of whom was 
baptized and the other unbaptized. He represented 
them as growing up equally amiable, equally up- 
right, equally reverent and God-fearing, with no 
outward evidence that one was in a different spirit- 
ual condition from the other ; yet Ave were required 
to believe not only that their condition was totally 
different, but that one was a child of God, and his 
companion was not. 

Again, he drew a sketch of the average men and 
women who made up society, whom we ourselves 
encountered in daily life, or were connected with, 
or read about in newspapers. They were neither 
special saints nor special sinners. None seemed 
good enough for heaven, none so bad as to deserve 
to be consigned to the company of evil spirits, and 
to remain in pain and misery forever. Yet all 
these people were, in fact, divided one from the 
other by an invisible line of separation. If they 
were to die on the spot as they actually were, some 
would be saved, the rest would be lost — the saved 
to have eternity of happiness, the lost to be with 
the devils in hell. 

Again, I am not sure whether it was on the same 



160 TBIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS. 

occasion, but it was in following the same line of 
thought, Newman described closely some of the 
incidents of our Lord's passion ; he then paused. 
For a few moments there was a breathless silence. 
Then, in a low, clear voice, of which the faintest 
vibration was audible in the farthest corner of St. 
Mary's, he said : " Now, I bid you recollect that 
He to whom these things were done was Almighty 
God." It was as if an electric stroke had gone 
through the church, as if every person present un- 
derstood for the first time the meaning of what he 
had all his life been saying. I suppose it was an 
epoch in the mental history of more than one of 
my Oxford contemporaries. 

James Anthony Frottde, 

Short Studies. 



IRELAND AS THE SCHOOL OF THE WEST. 



Moke than a thousand years ago the Church 
of Ireland was the burning and shining light of 
the Western World. Her Candlestick was seen 
from afar, diffusing its rays like the luminous 
beacon of some lofty lighthouse, planted on a rock 
amid the foaming surge of the ocean, and casting 
its light over the dark sea to guide the mariner in his 
course. Such was the Church of Ireland then. Such 
she was specially to us. We, we of this land, must 
not endeavor to conceal our obligations to her. 
We must not be ashamed to confess, that with re- 
gard to learning — and especially with regard to 
sacred learning — Ireland was in advance of Eng- 
land at that time. The sons of our nobles and 
gentry were sent for education thither. Ireland 
was the University of the West. She was rich in 
libraries, colleges, and schools. She was famous, 
as now, for hospitality. She received those who 
came to her with affectionate generosity, and pro- 
vided them with books and instructors. She 
trained them in sound learning, especially in the 
Word of God. 

(161) 



162 TEIBUTES OF PEOTESTANT WRITERS TO 

Nor is this all. We, my brethren, are bound to 
remember that the Christianity of England and of 
Scotland was, in a great measure, reflected upon 
them from the West, by the instrumentality of 
Irish missionaries, especially of those who came 
from the Scriptural School of Iona. That school 
was founded in the sixth century by St. Columba. 
He came from Ireland. He was from her ancient 
line of kings. He is justly regarded as the Apostle 
of the Highlands and Western Isles of Scotland. 
He preached the Gospel there thirty years before 
St. Austin landed in England. 

Many, doubtless, who are here present, have 
stood on the sea-girt cliff of Iona, and have viewed 
with religious interest and veneration the mould- 
ering remains of ancient Christianity which still 
survive on its solitary shore. The name of Iona 
has been coupled with that of Marathon by one of 
our most celebrated writers, in a passage familiar 
to all ;* and they who are versed in the history 
of Christianity in their own land (and who ought 
not to study it ?), will gladly and gratefully con- 
fess, that the peaceful conquests achieved in our 
country by the saintly armies of Iona, were far 



* " Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland," by Dr. 
Samuel Johnson, p. 261. Edinburgh, 1708. 



THE TKUTH ATSTD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 163 

more beneficent and glorious than any that were 
ever gained on fields like that of Marathon ; for 
the names of those who fought for these victories 
of the Gospel are inscribed — not in perishable 
records, but in the pages of the Book of Life. 

" Who are these that fly as a cloud, and as the 
Doves to their windows ? Surely the Isles shall 
wait for Me." 

May we not be permitted to apply this prophetic 
language to them ? The Hebrew word here used 
for Island is I, and is cognate with that by which 
Iona was first known. It was originally called Hii. 
The Hebrew word here used for Dove is Yona. And 
the name of St. Columba signifies Dove. Hence it 
was that the Island to which we now refer was 
called Iona, or the Island of St. Columba, or of 
the Dove. And it was also, and is still, called by 
a word bearing the same sense, I-Colm-Kill, i. e., 
the Island of Columba, the founder of Churches ; 
for Kill, it is well known, signifies Church. When, 
therefore, we bear in mind these circumstances ; 
when we recollect that the Dove is the scriptural 
emblem of the Christian soul ; and when we re- 
member that Iona, in those days, was a central 
church, a sacred school of the West, a refuge for 
the weary soul, to which many flocked from afar — 
may we not say that it was like a Christian Colum- 



164 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

barium, where the doves found a house, and a nest 
where they might lay their young — even the altar 
of the Lord of Hosts ? And may we not here ex- 
claim, " Who are these that fly as a cloud, and as 
the Doves to their windows? Surely the Isles 
shall wait for Me." 

St. Columba, having founded the missionary 
Church of Iona, and having preached the Gospel 
in Scotland and the Isles, fell asleep in Christ, in a 
good old age, at the end of the sixth century 
(A.D. 597). 

But he being dead yet spea7cet7i.* 

Before the middle of the following century — the 
seventh century (a.d. 635) — the King of North- 
umberland, Oswald, who had been educated in the 
Irish Church, sent to it for Christian teachers, that 
they might convert his subjects from Paganism. 
Accordingly, Aidan, an Irish bishop, and other 
Irish missionaries, went forth from the school of 
Columba, and were settled by the king in Lindis- 
farne, and preached the Gospel in Northumber- 
land, and planted the Church there. 

The happy effects of this mission from Iona were 
felt throughout England, from the river Humber 
to the Thames. Churches were built ; the people 



* Heb. xi. 4. 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 165 

flocked with joy to hear the Word of God. The 
Heavenly Dove — the Holy Spirit of God — brooded 
invisibly over the heads of thousands baptized by 
these Irish missionaries in the faith of Christ in 
our own land. Multitudes, wearied by the storm, 
and finding no rest for the sole of their feet on the 
wilderness of the waters of this life, took refuge 
in the Ark of the Church. 

Bishop Wokdswoeth, 
Occasional Sermons. 



ELIZABETH'S REFORMATION IX IRELAND. 






It now remains for us to notice the measures 
employed during the reign of Elizabeth to propa- 
gate the "reformed" religion in Ireland. One 
would naturally suppose that religion had been 
lost sight of amid all the slaughter, devastation, 
and hideous cruelty which characterized this reign. 
But no ; the propagation of the Protestant relig- 
ion was actually one of the pretences put forward 
by the English government for its "vigorous 
policy M toward the Irish ! Protestantism and 
persecution went hand in hand ; and while Grey. 
Carew. and Mount] oy were burning and devastat- 
ing in Minister, Leinster. and Ulster, the zealous 
propagandists of the new religion were laboring to 
extend their creed by means of torture and cruelty. 
Many Catholic bishops and priests were put to 
death during Lord Grey's administration, for exer- 
cising their spiritual functions ; some were hanged 
and quartered ; others were beaten about the heads 
with stones, till their brains gushed out ; others 
were murdered in cold blood, sometimes at the 

(166) 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 167 

very altar; others had their bowels torn open, 
their nails and fingers torn off, and were thus pain- 
fully destroyed by slow torture, their remains 
being afterward treated with the most revolting in- 
dignity. The most common method, however, 
of executing the sentence of the law upon these 
Catholic recusants was as follows : They were first 
hanged up, and then cut down alive ; they were 
next dismembered, ripped up, and had their bowels 
burned before their faces ; after which, they were 
beheaded and quartered ; the whole process lasting 
above half an hour, during which the unfortunate 
victims remained conscious and writhing under 
the agonies inflicted on them by their Protestant 
persecutors. 

While the Catholic clergy were thus treated, the 
Protestants who had been created teachers of the 
State-religion by Act of Parliament, were notori- 
ously profligate, lewd, simoniacal, slothful, and in- 
temperate, even according to the testimony of Eng- 
lish Protestant writers themselves. They were the 
refuse of the English Church — we had almost said, 
of England — of whom nothing else could be made 
but Irish parsons. They went to Ireland for gain, 
for tithes, for plunder ; caring nothing for the 
souls of the flock, and watching over them rather 
with the care of the wolf than that of the shep- 






168 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

herd. Tlie Irish Church was, in fact, hencef orward 
looked upon as a mere refuge for hungry adven- 
turers from England, who, born within the atmos- 
phere of gentility, were too idle to work ; but were 
not beneath extracting from the hard earnings of 
the poor the means of profligate luxury and riot- 
ous extravagance. What was the consequence? 
That the great body of the Irish people, in whose 
eyes Protestantism had become identified with 
everything that was odious and intolerable, clung 
to their ancient faith, and to the native pastors 
who had been faithful to them for centuries. 

Such was the reign of "good Queen Bess' 5 in 
Ireland — one of the darkest and bloodiest pas- 
sages to be found in history. In her time, almost 
the entire country was reduced to the condition of 
a desert, and at least half the entire population 
perished by famine or the sword. Nearly forty 
rebellions occurred during the half century that 
she occupied the throne — many of which rebel- 
lions were stirred up and fomented merely for the 
purpose of rapine, confiscation, and plunder. Fam- 
ine and pestilence were then openly advocated as 
the only pacificators of Ireland, by one who is 
known in England as the most elegant and grace- 
ful of her early poets. In the Irish mind, how- 
ever, Edmund Spenser is associated, not with the 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 169 

Faery Queen, but with the royal vixen of England, 
of whose cruelty and ambition he was found the 
unscrupulous advocate. Sir Walter Raleigh, too, 
the chivalrous and polite, is known to Ireland only 
as the instrument of ruthless tyranny and barbari- 
ty. Elizabeth's entire reign, indeed, was a con- 
tinued series of disgusting cruelties and crimes. 
Famine and devastation were the " good queen's '? 
handmaidens ; the rack, the gibbet, and the dun- 
geon, her Protestant missionaries. And thus, at 
last, was Ireland "pacified"; and, after a contest 
of 440 years, brought under the dominion of the 
crown of England. The cost to Elizabeth was 
most serious. More than £3,000,000 sterling was 
expended on the conquest, with an incalculable 
number of her bravest soldiers. And after all, as 
the queen was assured by her own servants, " little 
was left in Ireland for her majesty to reign over 
but carcasses and as?ies"\ 

The " Reformation from Popery " was also " com- 
pleted " in Elizabeth's reign. The history of this 
movement in Ireland is, throughout, one of meroi- 
less persecution, of wholesale spoliation, and of 
murderous cruelty. The instruments by which it 
was accomplished were despotic monarchs, un- 
principled ministers, a rapacious aristocracy, and 

venal and slavish parliaments. It sprung from 

8 



170 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS. 

brutal passion, was nurtured in selfish and corrupt 
policy, and was consummated in bloodshed and 
horrid crime. " The work," observes a contempo- 
rary, " which had been begun by Henry, the mur- 
derer of his wives, was continued by Somerset, the 
murderer of his brother, and completed by Eliza- 
beth, the murderer of her guest." Such was the 
" Reformation," and such were its instruments ; 
and the consequences which flowed from it, at least 
in Ireland, were of a kindred character for cen- 
turies to come. 

Samuel Smiles, 
History of Ireland and the Irish People, under 
the Government of England. 



THE ACTS PASSED IN THE CATHOLIC PAR- 
LIAMENT OF JAMES II., AND THOSE 
PASSED BY THE PROTESTANT PAR- 
LIAMENT OF WILLIAM III. 



As it lias not unfrequently been alleged against 
the Catholics that, if they -had the power, and pos- 
sessed ascendency in the Irish Legislature, that the 
Protestants have done, they would use it for pur- 
poses of their own aggrandizement, and to the 
injury of other religious sects — it may not be un- 
interesting and uninstructive here to place in 
juxtaposition, the Acts passed in the Catholic 
Parliament of James and those passed by the Prot- 
estant Parliament of William, allowing the reader 
to judge for himself which of the two legislated 
most in the spirit of constitutional freedom, and 
for the true interests of Ireland : 



Acts Passed in the Catholic 
Parliaments of James. 

An act declaring that the 
parliament of England can 
not bind Ireland ; and against 



Acts Passed in the Prot- 
estant Parliaments of Will- 
iam and Mary. 

An act, 3 William, recog- 
nized by the Irish parliament 



writs and appeals to be (thereby recognizing the su- 
brought for removing judg- j premacy of England), for ex- 

(171) 



172 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 



ments, decrees, and sentences 
in Ireland to England. 

An act for taking off all in- 
capacities froni the natives of 
this kingdom. 

An act for liberty of con- 
science, and repealing such 
acts and clauses in any acts of 
Parliament which are incon- 
sistent with the same. 

An act for the encourage- 
ment of strangers and others 
to inhabit and plant in this 
kingdom of Ireland. 

An act for vesting in his 
Majesty the goods of absen- 
tees. 

An act for prohibiting the 
importation o f English, 
Scotch, or Welsh wools into 
this kingdom. 

An act for the advance and 
improvement of trade, and 
for the encouragement and 
increase of shipping and navi- 
gation, etc., etc. 



eluding Catholics from parlia- 
ment. — Lords'' Journal, v. i., 
p. 496. 

An act restraining foreign 
education. — 7 William, c. 4. 

An act for disarming Pa- 
pists, containing a clause 
rendering then spoliation, 
robbery, etc., legal. — 7 Will., 
c. 5. 

An act for banishing arch- 
bishops, priests, etc., for the 
purpose of extinguishing the 
Catholic religion. — 9 Will., 
c. 1. 

An act for discouraging 
marriages between Catholics 
and Protestants. — 9 Will., c. 5. 

An act confirming (i. e., 
violating) the articles of Lim- 
erick.— 9 Will, c. 11. 

The acts for discouraging 
the Woolen Trade of Ireland, 
passed in the English parlia- 
ments, — (1 Will, and Mary, 
c. 32; 4 Will, and Mary, c. 
24; 7 and 8 Will., c. 28; 
9 and 10 Will, c. 40), and 
recognized afterward by the 
Irish parliament, in the Bill 
passed 25th of March, 1699. 

An act completing the ruin 
of the woollen manufactory, 
and imposed with all its viola- 
tions of the trial by jury, etc. , 
by the English parliament on 
Ireland. — 10 and 11 Will, 
and Mary, c. 10. 



THE TKUTH A1NTD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 173 

Such were the Protestant parliaments from the 
hands of which Ireland afterward received its 
destinies, and such the constitution to which the 
monopolists of the present day still wish that we 
should revert ! Such men and such assemblies were 
much more fitting to entertain the petitions of 
coal-heavers for the exclusion of Papists from the 
trade, or to burn Molyneux's book by the public 
hangman, than to legislate for the rights and in- 
terest of a free nation. 

Samuel Smiles, 

History of Ireland and the Irish People, under 
the Government of England. 



SAINT LOUIS. 






In that long succession of eulogists on the Royal 
Saint, none have been more emphatic than Hume, 
and none more enthusiastic than Voltaire. Yet it 
was impossible, even to their subtle intellects, as it 
had been difficult to many students in a far nobler 
school than theirs, to trace the movements of that 
benignant Providence which planted and brought 
to a prolific maturity in the mind of Louis, as in a 
genial soil, the seeds of an habitual holiness, and 
of a wisdom which was at once elevated and pro- 
found. The more diligently his life is studied, the 
more distinctly will it, I think, appear, that his 
natural dispositions received from the associates 
and teachers of his youth the training which 
rendered them fruitful of so many virtues. Ex- 
quisitely alive to every domestic affection — often 
oppressed with a constitutional* melancholy, which 
laid bare to him the illusions of life, yet occasion- 
ally animated with a constitutional gaiety, which 
enabled him for a while to cherish and play with 

those illusions — enamored of the beautiful, and 

(174) 



THE TETJTH AJSTD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 175 

revering the sublime — his temper, though thus 
sympathetic, pensive, and imaginative, was allied 
(it is no common alliance) to a courage which rose 
and exulted in the presence of danger, and to a 
fortitude which was unshaken in the lowest depths 
of calamity. 

His mother, Blanche of Castile, watched over the 
royal boy (for he had not completed his thirteenth 
year when he ascended the throne of France; with 
all a mother's tenderness, united to a discipline 
more inflexible, and perhaps more stern, than most 
fathers have courage to exercise. In Isabella of 
France, his sister, who had preferred the cloister 
to the imperial crown, he had another kinswoman 
who bestowed on him all the thoughts, the time, 
and the affection which she ventured to divert 
from the object of her almost ceaseless worship. 
In his eighteenth year he married Marguerite of 
Provence, who after having been the idol of the 
Troubadours of her native land, herself became 
almost an idolater of him, cleaving to him with 
the same constancy of love in their quiet home at 
Poissy, and amid his disasters at Massourah and 
Damietta. 

But the sagacity of Blanche foresaw that these 
filial, fraternal, and conjugal affections might ener- 
vate, even while they purified the spirit of her son, 



176 TEIBUTES OF PEOTESTA]S T T WEITERS TO 

and she therefore selected for his tutor a man pos- 
sessing, as she judged, the qualifications best 
adapted to counteract that danger. His name was 
Pacifico. He was an Italian gentleman, who, hav- 
ing been one of the first followers of St. Francis 
of Assisi, was animated by the profound and fer- 
vent devotion which characterized his master. He 
instructed his pupil in ancient and in more recent 
history, caused him to ride boldly in the chase, and 
required him to cultivate every martial exercise 
and courtly grace, which was then regarded as in- 
dispensable in a gentleman and a cavalier. Nor 
did the lowliness of the Franciscan institute pre- 
vent the friar from instilling into the soul of Louis 
the loftiest conceptions of his own royal dignity. 
Other and far different associates contributed to 
form the character of the pupil of Pacifico. In 
the halls of the Louvre, then a fortress rather than 
a palace, veteran captains described to him the bat- 
tles which they had fought with Saladin, and the 
victories which had expelled the English from 
Normandy. Beneath the same royal roof, gray- 
headed counsellors of Philippe Auguste explained 
to him the methods by which that prince had en- 
larged the domains and the powers of the kings of 
France ; and there, also, civic bailiffs and provin- 
cial seneschals interpreted to their young sovereign 



THE TRUTH AKD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 177 

the motives which, had induced his ancestors to 
increase the number and to extend the franchises 
of the communes. Thus imbibing from aged men 
the hereditary maxims of his house, he learned to 
adopt them as the laws by which his future reign 
was to be directed. 

But the yet higher laws by which his own per- 
sonal conduct was to be governed, seem to have 
been derived from a far more eminent teacher than 
any of these. St. Thomas Aquinas, who had mi- 
grated from his native Italy into Northern France, 
was passing there a life which may be said to have 
been one of deep and unintermitted meditation ; 
for the results of which he found utterance some- 
times in acts of public or solitary worship, and at 
other times in interpreting to mankind the mys- 
teries and the duties of their relations to the Deity 
and to each other. To the inquiry of Bonaventura 
as to the sources of his stupendous learning, he 
answered by pointing to the crucifix which stood 
upon his table ; and, when seated at the table of 
the king, or introduced into his closet, he still di- 
rected to the same inexhaustible fountain of divine 
and human wisdom. From his intercourse with 
St. Thomas, Louis seems to have acquired his ac- 
quaintance with that science which the devout Pa- 

cifico could not have taught — the sacred science 

8* 



178 TRIBUTES OF PEOTESTAXT WRITERS TO 

of Christian morality, in all the amplitude and in 
all the minuteness of its application to the offices 
of a legislator and a king. 

St. Louis occupies in history a place apart from 
that of all the other moral heroes of our race. It 
is his peculiar praise to have combined in his own 
person the virtues which are apparently the most 
incompatible with each other, and with the state 
and trials of a king. Seated on the noblest of the 
thrones of Europe, and justly jealous of his high 
prerogatives, he was as meek and gentle as if he 
had been undistinguished from the meanest of his 
brethren of mankind. Endowed from his boyhood, 
by the lavish bounties of nature, with rank, wealth, 
power, health, and personal beauty, he was as com- 
passionate as if sorrow had been his daily compan- 
ion from his youth. An enthusiast in music, archi- 
tecture, and polite learning, he applied himself to 
all the details of public business with the assiduity 
of one who had no other means of subsistence. 
Surpassed by no monarch in modern Europe in the 
munificence of his bounties or in the splendor of his 
public works, those purest and most sumptuous of 
the luxuries of royalty were in no single instance 
defrayed from any tributes levied from his people. 
Passionately attached to his kindred, he never en- 
riched or exalted them at the public expense. The 



THE TRUTH A1STD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 179 

"heir of conquests and territorial acquisitions of 
wliicli the responsibility rested with his grandfa- 
ther, the inestimable advantages with himself, he 
restored to his rivals and his adversaries every fief 
and province which, upon the strictest scrutiny by 
the most impartia^umpires, appeared to have been 
added to the royal domain by unjust, or even by 
questionable means. 

What, then, was the basis of this sacred harmony 
in the character of Louis ? I answer, or rather every 
page of his history answers, that it flowed from 
his constant devotion to that holy canon, and to that 
divine model, in which every utterance and every 
action are harmonious. His eye was continually 
turned to that eternal fountain of light with all 
the docility of childhood. He had early attained 
to that maturity of moral stature in which the ab- 
dication of self-will to the supreme will becomes 
at once a habit and a delight. In the service of 
his Creator he found and enjoyed a perfect free- 
dom. It was a service often rendered in pain, in 
toil, in sickness, and in danger, but ever rendered 
with a heart full of cheerfulness and confidence 
and hope. 

Sir James Stephen, 
Lectures on the History of France. 



JOAX OF AEC. THE MAID OF OELEAXS. 



What is to be thought of Tier ? What is to be 

thought of the poor shepherd-girl from the hills 
and forests of Lorraine, that — like the Hebrew 
shepherd-boy from the hills and forests of Judea 
— rose suddenly out of the quiet, out of the safety, 
out of the religious inspiration, rooted in deep pas- 
toral solicitudes, to a station in the van of armies, 
and to the more perilous station at the right hand 
of kings I The Hebrew boy inaugurated his pa- 
triotic mission by an act, by a victorious act. such 
as no man could deny. But so did the girl of Lor- 
raine, if we read her story as it was read by those 
who saw her nearest. Adverse armies bore witness 
to the boy as no pretender ; but so did they to the 
gentle girl. Judged by the voices of all who sow 
them from a station of good-iclIL both were found 
true and loyal to any promises involved in their 
first acts. Enemies it was that made the difference 
between their subsequent fortunes. The boy rose 
— to a splendor and a noonday prosperity, both 
personal and public, that rang through the records 

(180) 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 181 

of his people, and became a by- word amongst Ms 
posterity for a thousand years, until the sceptre 
was departing from Judah. The poor, forsaken 
girl, on the contrary, drank not herself from that 
cup of rest which she had secured for France. She 
never sang together with them the songs that rose 
in her native Domremy, as echoes to the departing 
steps of invaders. She mingled not in the festal 
dances at Yaucouleurs which celebrated in rapture 
the redemption of France. No ! for her voice was 
then silent. No ! for her feet were dust. Pure, 
innocent^ noble-hearted girl ! whom, from earliest 
youth, ever I believed in as full of truth and self- 
sacrifice, this was amongst the strongest pledges 
for thy side, that never once — no, not for a moment 
of weakness — didst thou revel in the vision of cor- 
onets and honors from men. Coronets for thee ! 
Oh, no ! Honors, if they come when all is over, are 
for those that share thy blood. Daughter of Dom- 
remy, when the gratitude of thy king shall awaken, 
thou wilt be sleeping the sleep of the dead. Call 
her, king of France, but she will not hear thee ! 
Cite her by thy apparitors to come and receive a 
robe of honor, but she will be found en contumace. 
When the thunders of universal France, as even 
yet may happen, shall proclaim the grandeur of 
the poor shepherd-girl that gave up all for her 



182 TKLBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

country — thy ear, young shepherd-girl, will have 
been deaf for five centuries. To suffer and to do, 
that was thy portion in this life ; to do — never for 
thyself, always for others ; to suffer — never in the 
persons of generous champions, always in thy own ; 
that was thy destiny ; and not for a moment was 
it hidden from thyself. " Life," thou saidst, " is 
short, and the sleep which is in the grave is long. 
Let me use that life, so transitory, for the glory 
of those heavenly dreams destined to comfort the 
sleep which is so long." This poor creature — pure 
from every suspicion of even a visionary self-inter- 
est, even as she was pure in senses more obvious — 
never once did this holy child, as regarded herself, 
relax from her belief in the darkness that was 
travelling to meet her. She might not prefigure the 
very manner of her death ; she saw not in vision, 
perhaps, the aerial altitude of the fiery scaffold, 
the spectators without end on every road pouring 
into Rouen as to a coronation, the surging smoke, 
the volleying flames, the hostile faces all around, 
the pitying eye that lurked but here and there, 
until nature and imperishable truth broke loose 
from artificial restraints ; these might not be ap- 
parent through the mists of the hurrying future. 
But the voice that called her to death, that she 
heard forever. 



THE TKUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 183 

Great was the throne of France, even in those 
days, and great was he that sat upon it ; but well 
Joanna knew that not the throne, nor he that sat 
upon it, was for her ; but, on the contrary, that 
she was for them ; not she by them, but they by 
her, should rise from the dust. Gorgeous were the 
lilies of France, and for centuries had the privilege 
to spread their beauty over land and sea, until, in 
another century, the wrath of God and man com- 
bined to wither them ; but well Joanna knew, early 
at Domremy she had read that bitter truth, that 
the lilies of France would decorate no garland for 
Tier. Flower nor bud, bell nor blossom, would ever 
bloom for Tier. 

On the Wednesday after Trinity Sunday, in 1431, 
being then about nineteen years of age, the Maid 
of Arc underwent her martyrdom. She was con- 
ducted before midday, guarded by eight hundred 
spearmen, to a platform of prodigious height, con- 
structed of wooden billets, supported by hollow 
spaces in every direction, for the creation of air- 
currents. " The pile struck terror," says M. Mich- 
elet, "by its height." .... There would be a cer- 
tainty of calumny rising against her — some people 
would impute to her a willingness to recant. No 
innocence could escape that. Now, had she really 
testified this willingness on the scaffold it would 



184 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

have argued nothing at all but the weakness of a 
genial nature shrinking from the instant approach 
of torment. And those will often pity that weak- 
ness most who in their own person would yield to 
it least. Meantime there never was a calumny ut- 
tered that drew less support from the recorded cir- 
cumstances. It rests upon no positive testimony, 
and it has a weight of contradicting testimony to 
stem What else but her meek, saintly de- 
meanor won, from the enemies that till now had 
believed her a witch, tears of rapturous admira- 
tion ? " Ten thousand men," says M. Michelet him- 
self, " ten thousand men wept ; and of those ten 
thousand the majority were political enemies." 
What else was it but her constancy, united with 
her angelic gentleness, that drove the fanatic Eng- 
lish soldier — who had sworn to throw a faggot on 
her scaffold as Ms tribute of abhorrence that did 
so, that fulfilled his vow — suddenly to turn away 
a penitent for life, saying everywhere that he had 
seen a dove rising upon wings to heaven from the 
ashes where she had stood ? What else drove the 
executioner to kneel at every shrine for pardon to 
his share in the tragedy % And if all this were in- 
sufficient, then I cite the closing act of her life 
as valid on her behalf, were all other testimonies 
against her. The executioner had been directed 



THE TKUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 185 

to apply the torch from below. He did so. The 
fiery smoke rose up in billowy columns. A Do- 
minican monk was then standing almost at her 
side. Wrapped up in his sublime office, he saw 
not the danger, but still persisted in his prayers. 
Even then, when the last enemy was racing up the 
fiery stairs to seize her, even at that moment did 
this noblest of girls think only for him, the one 
friend that would not forsake her, and not for her- 
self ; bidding him with her last breath to care for his 
own preservation, but to leave her to God. That 
girl, whose latest breath descended in this sublime 
expression of self-oblivion, did not utter the word 
recant, either with her lips or in her heart. No, 
she did not, though one should rise from the dead 

to swear it. 

Thomas De Quiincey, 

Miscellaneous Essays. 






DEATH OF MARIE ANTOINETTE. 



Is there a man's heart that thinks without pity 
of those long months and years and slow- wasting 
ignominy ; of thy birth, self-cradled in imperial 
Schonbrunn, the winds of heaven not to visit thy 
face too roughly, thy foot to light on softness, thy 
eyes on splendor ; and then of thy death, or hun- 
dred deaths, to which the guillotine, and Fouquier- 
Tinville's judgment bar was but the merciful end ! 
Look there, man born of woman ! The blood of 
that fair face is wasted, the hair is gray with care ; 
the brightness of those eyes is quenched, their lids 
hang drooping, the face is stony pale, as of one 
living in death. Mean weeds which her own hand 
has mended attire the queen of the world. The 
death hurdle where thou sittest pale, motionless, 
which only curses environ, has to stop ; a people, 
drunk with vengeance, will drink it again in full 
draught, looking at thee there. Far as the eye 
reaches, a multitudinous sea of maniac heads, the 
air deaf with their triumph-yell ! The living-dead 
must shudder with yet one other pang ; her startled 

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THE TKUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 187 

blood yet again suffuses with the hue of agony that 
pale face, which she hides with her hands. There 
is there no heart to say, God pity thee ! Oh, think 
not of these ; think of Him whom thou worshippest, 
the Crucified — who also treading the wine-press 
alone fronted sorrow still deeper ; and triumphed 
over it and made it holy, and built of it a " sanc- 
tuary of sorrow " for thee and all the wretched ! 
Thy path of thorns is nigh ended, one long last 
look at the Tuilleries, where thy step was once so 
light — where thy children shall not dwell. The 
head is on the block ; the axe rushes — dumb lies 
the world ; that wild-yelling world, and all its mad- 
ness, is behind thee. 

Thomas Caelyle, 
Critical and Miscellaneous Essays. 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION IN ITS RELA 
TION WITH THE POPE. 



It is not for his Holiness that we intend this 
consolatory declaration of our own weakness, and 
of the tyrannous temper of his grand enemy. That 
prince has known both the one and the other from 
the beginning. The artists of the French Revolu- 
tion had given their very first essays and sketches 
of robbery and desolation against his territories, in 
a far more cruel " murdering piece " than had ever 
entered into the imagination of painter or poet. 
Without ceremony they tore from his cherishing 
arms the possessions which he had held for five hun- 
dred years, undisturbed by all the ambition of all 
the ambitious monarchs who during that period 
have reigned in France. Is it to him, in whose 
wrong we have in our late negotiation ceded his 
now unhappy countries near the Rhone, lately 
amongst the most flourishing (perhaps the most 
flourishing for their extent) of all the countries 
upon earth, that we are to prove the sincerity of 
our resolution to make peace with the Republic of 
Barbarism ? That venerable potentate and Pontiff 

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THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 189 

is sunk deep into the vale of years ; lie is half 
disarmed by his peaceful character ; his dominions 
are more than half disarmed by a peace of two 
hundred years, defended us they were, not by force, 
but by reverence : yet, in all these straits, we see 
him display, against the recent ruins and the new 
defacements of his plundered capital, along with 
the mild and decorated piety of the modern, all 
the spirit and magnanimity of ancient Rome. Does 
he, who, though himself unable to defend them, 
nobly refuse to receive pecuniary compensation 
for the protection he owed to his people of Avig- 
non, Carpentras, and the Yenaissin, — does he want 
proofs of our good disposition to deliver over that 
people, without any security for them, or any com- 
pensation to their sovereign, to this cruel enemy ? 
Does he want to be satisfied of the sincerity of our 
humiliation to France, who has seen his free, fer- 
tile, and happy city and State of Bologna, the cra- 
dle of regenerated law, the seat of sciences and of 
arts, so hideously metamorphosed, whilst he was 
crying to Great Britain for aid, and offering to 
purchase that aid at any price % Is it him who 
sees that chosen spot of plenty and delight con- 
verted into a Jacobin ferocious republic, dependent 
on the homicides of France, — is it him, who, from 
the miracles of his beneficent industry, has done a 



190 TRIBUTES OF PKOTESTAXT WRITERS. 

work which defied the power of the Roman Emper- 
ors, though with an enthralled world to labor for 
them. — is it him who has drained and cultivated 
the Pontine Marshes, that we are to satisfy of our 
cordial spirit of conciliation with those who, in 
their equity, are restoring Holland again to the 
seas, whose maxims poison more than the exhala- 
tions of the most deadly fens, and who turn all the 
fertilities of Nature and of Art into an howling 
desert \ Is it to him we are to demonstrate the 
good faith of our submissions to the Cannibal Ee- 
public — to him. who is commanded to deliver up 
into their hands Ancona and Civita Vecchia. seats 
of commerce raised by the wise and liberal labors 
and expenses of the present and late Pontiffs, ports 
not more belonging to the Ecclesiastical State than 
to the commerce of Great Britain, thus wresting 
from his hands the power of the keys of the centre 
of Italy, as before they had taken possession of 
the keys of the northern part from the hands of 
the unhappy King of Sardinia, the natural ally of 
England \ Is it to him we are to prove our good 
faith in the peace which we are soliciting to re- 
ceive from the hands of his and our robbers, the 
enemies of all arts, all sciences, all civilization, 

and all commerce I 

Edmuxd Bueke, 

Letter III., On a Regicide Peace. 



THE IMPRISON ME'JNT OV POPE PIUS v II. 



This day of miracles, in which, the human heart 
has been strung to its extremest point of energy, 
this day, to which posterity will look for instances 
of every crime and every virtue, holds not in its 
page of wonders a more sublime phenomenon than 
that calumniated Pontiff. Placed at the very pin- 
nacle of human elevation, surrounded by the pomp 
of the Vatican and the splendors of the court, pour- 
ing forth the mandates of Christ from the throne 
of the Caesars, nations were his subjects, kings were 
his companions, religion was his handmaid; he 
went forth gorgeous with the accumulated dignity 
of ages, every knee bending, and every eye blessing 
the prince of one world and the prophet of another. 
Have we not seen him, in one moment, his crown 
crumbled, his sceptre a reed, his throne a shadow, 
his home a dungeon ! But if we have, Catholics, 
it was only to show how inestimable is human vir- 
tue compared with human grandeur ; it was only 
to show those whose faith was failing, and whose 
fears were strengthening, that the simplicity of the 

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192 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

patriarchs, the piety of the saints, and the patience 
of the martyrs, had not wholly vanished. Per- 
haps it was also ordained to show the bigot at 
home, as well as the tyrant abroad, that though 
the person might be chained, and the motive ca- 
lumniated, "Religion was still strong enough to 
support her sons, and to confound, if she could 
not reclaim, her enemies. ]STo threats could awe, 
no promises could tempt, no suffering could appal 
him ; mid the damps of his dungeon he dashed 
away the cup in which the pearl of his liberty was 
to be dissolved. Only reflect on the state of the 
world at that moment ! All around him was con- 
vulsed, the very foundations of the earth seemed 
giving way, the comet was let loose that " from its 
fiery hair shook pestilence and death," the twilight 
was gathering, the tempest was roaring, the dark- 
ness was at hand ; but he towered sublime, like 
the last mountain in the deluge — majestic, not less 
in his elevation than in his solitude, immutable 
amid change, magnificent amid ruin, the last rem- 
nant of earth's beauty, the last resting-place of 
heaven's light ! 

It is not unworthy of remark, that the last day 
of France's triumph, and the first of her decline, 
was that on which her insatiable chieftain smote 
the holy head of your religion. When the man 



THE TRUTH ATNTB BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 193 

now unborn shall trace the story of that eventful 
day, he will see the adopted child of fortune borne 
on the wings of victory from clime to clime, mark- 
ing every movement with a triumph, and every 
pause with a crown, till time, space, seasons, nay, 
even nature herself, seeming to vanish before him, 
until in the blasphemy of his ambition he smote the 
apostle of his God, and dared to raise the everlast- 
ing Cross amid his perishable trophies ! 

Charles Phillips, 
Speeches. 




CHATEAUBRIAND. 



It was in the disastrous days of the French 
E evolution that Chateaubriand arose, and bent the 
force of his lofty mind to vindicate the persecuted 
but imperishable faith of his fathers. In early 
youth, he was at first carried away by the fashion- 
able infidelity of his times : and in his " Essais 
Historiques." which was published in 1792. in 
London, while the principles of virtue and natural 
religion are unceasingly maintained, he seems to 
have doubted whether the Christian religion was 
not crumbling with the institutions of society. 
But misfortune, that great corrector of the vices of 
the world, soon changed these faulty views. In 
the days of exile and adversity, when, by the 
waters of Babylon, be sat down and wept, he re- 
verted to the faith and belief of his fathers, and 
inhaled in the school of adversity those noble 
maxims of devotion and duty which have ever 
since regulated his conduct in life. 

The great characteristic of the French author 

is the impassioned and enthusiastic turn of his 
(1941 



THE TETJTH A1S T D BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 195 

mind. Master of immense information, thoroughly 
imbued at once with the learning of classical and 
catholic times ; gifted with a retentive memory, a 
poetical fancy, and a painter's eye, he brings to 
bear upon every subject the force of erudition, the 
images of poetry, the charms of varied scenery, 
and the eloquence of impassioned feeling. Hence 
his writings display a reach and variety of imagery, 
a depth of light and shadow, a vigor of thought, 
and an extent of illustration, to which there is 
nothing comparable in any other writer, ancient or 
modern, with whom we are acquainted. All that 
he has seen, or read, or heard seem present to his 
mind, whatever he does, or wherever he is. He 
illustrates the genius of Christianity by the beau- 
ties of classical learning, inhales the spirit of 
ancient prophecy on the shores of the Jordan, 
dreams on the banks of the Eurotas of the solitude 
and gloom of the American forests ; visits the Holy 
Sepulchre with a mind alternately devoted to the 
devotion of a pilgrim, the curiosity of an anti- 
quary, and the enthusiasm of a crusader, and com- 
bines, in his romances, with the tender feelings of 
chivalrous love, the heroism of Roman virtue, and 
the sublimity of Christian martyrdom. His writ- 
ings are less a faithful portrait of any particular 
age or country, than an assemblage of all that is 



196 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS. 

grand, and generous, and elevated in human nature. 
He drinks deep of inspiration at all the fountains 
where it has ever been poured forth to mankind, 
and delights us less by the accuracy of any par- 
ticular picture, than the traits of genius which he 
has combined from every quarter where its foot- 
steps have trod. His style seems formed on the 
lofty strains of Isaiah, or the beautiful images of 
the Book of Job, more than all the classical or 
modern literature with which his mind is so amply 
stored. He is admitted by all Frenchmen, of what- 
ever party, to be the most perfect living master of 
their language, and to have gained for it beauties 
unknown^ to the age of Bossuet and Fenelon. Less 
polished in his periods, less sonorous in his dic- 
tion, less melodious in his rhythm, than these il- 
lustrious writers, he is incomparably more varied, 
rapid, and energetic ; his ideas flow in quicker 
succession, his words flow in more striking anti- 
thesis ; the past, the present, and the future lise 
up at once before us ; and we see how strongly the 
stream of genius, instead of gliding down the 
smooth current of ordinary life, has been broken 
and agitated by the cataract of revolution. 

Sir Archibald Alison, 
Miscellaneous Essays. 



ISABELLA OF CASTILE. 



The acquisition of an important kingdom in the 
heart of Europe, and of the ISTew World beyond 
the waters, which promised to pour into her lap 
all the fabled treasures of the Indies, was rapidly 
raising Spain to the first rank of European powers. 
But, in the noontide of her success, she was to ex- 
perience a fatal shock in the loss of that illustrious 
personage, who had so long and so gloriously pre- 
sided over her destinies. We have had occasion 
to notice more than once the declining state of the 
queen's health for the last few years. Her consti- 
tution had been greatly impaired by incessant per- 
sonal fatigue and exposure, and by the unremitting 
activity of her mind. It had suffered far more 
severely, however, from a series of heavy domestic 
calamities, which had fallen on her with little 
intermission since the death of her mother in 1496. 
The next year, she followed to the grave the re- 
mains of her only son, the heir and hope of the 
monarchy, just entering on his prime ; and in the 
succeeding, was called on to render the same sad 

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198 TRIBUTES OF PKOTESTAjST WKITEKS TO 

offices to the best beloved of her daughters, the 
amiable queen of Portugal. 

The severe illness occasioned by this last blow 
terminated in a dejection of spirits, from which 
she never entirely recovered. Her surviving chil- 
dren were removed far from her into distant lands ; 
with the occasional exception, indeed, of Joanna, 
who caused a still deeper pang to her mother's 
affectionate heart, by exhibiting infirmities, which 
justified the most melancholy presages for the 
future. 

Far from abandoning herself to weak and use- 
less repining, however, Isabella sought consolation, 
where it was best to be found, in the exercises of 
piety, and in the discharge of the duties attached 
to her exalted station. Accordingly, we find her 
attentive as ever to the minutest interest of her 
subjects ; supporting her great minister Ximenes 
in his schemes of reform, quickening the zeal for 
discovery in the west, and, at the close of the 
year 1503, on the alarm of the French invasion, 
rousing her dying energies, to kindle a spirit of 
resistance in her people. These strong mental ex- 
ertions, however, only accelerated the decay of her 
bodily strength, which was gradually sinking un- 
der that sickness of heart which admits of no 
cure, and scarcely of consolation. 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 199 

Ferdinand soon after fell ill of a fever, and the 
queen was seized with the same disorder, accom- 
panied with more alarming symptoms. Her illness 
was exasperated by anxiety for her husband, and 
she refused to credit the favorable reports of his 
physicians, while he was detained from her pres- 
ence. His vigorous constitution, however, threw 
off the malady, while hers gradually failed under 
it. Her tender heart was more keenly sensible 
than his to the unhappy condition of their child, 
and to the gloomy prospects which awaited her 
beloved Castile. 

Her faithful follower, Martyr, was with the court 
at this time in Medina del Campo. In a letter to 
the Count of Tendilla, dated October 7th, he states, 
that the most serious apprehensions were enter- 
tained by the physicians for the queen's fate. 
"Her whole system," he says, "is pervaded by a 
consuming fever. She loathes food of every kind, 
and is tormented with incessant thirst, while the 
disorder has all the appearance of terminating in 
a dropsy." 

In the meanwhile Isabella lost nothing of her 
solicitude for the welfare of her people, and the 
great concerns of government. While reclining, as 
she was obliged to do a great part of the day, on her 
couch, she listened to the recital or reading of 



200 TEIBT7TE3 OF PEOTESTAXT WEITEES TO 

whatever occurred of interest at home or abroac 
She gave audience to distinguished foreigner 
especially such Italians as could acquaint her with 
particulars of the late war. and above all in regard 
to Gonsalvo de Cordova, in whose fortunes she had 
always taken the liveliest concern. She received 
with pleasure, too. such intelligent travellers as 
her renown had attracted to the Castilian Court. 
She drew forth their stores of various information, 
and dismissed them, says a writer of the age, pene- 
trated with the deepest admiration of that strength 
of mind which sustained her so nobly under the 
weight of a mortal malady. 

This malady was now rapidly gaining ground. 
On the loth of October we have another epistle of 
Martyr, of the f ollowino; melancholv tenor : %i You 
ask me respecting the state of the queen's health. 
We sit sorrowful in the palace all day long, trem- 
blino'lv waiting the hour when religion and virtue 
shall quit the earth with her. Let us pray that 
we may be permitted to follow hereafter where she 
is soon to go. She so far transcends all human 
excellence, that there is scarcely anything of mor- 
tality about her. She can hardly be said to die, 
but to pass into a nobler existence, which should 
rather excite our envy than our sorrow. She leaves 
the world tilled with her renown, and she goes to 






THE TEIJTH AKD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 201 

enjoy life eternal with her God in heaven. I write 
this," he concludes, " between hope and fear, while 
the breath is still fluttering within her." 

The deepest gloom now overspread the nation. 
Even Isabella^ long illness had failed to prepare 
the minds of her faithful people for the sad catas- 
trophe. Isabella in the meantime was deluded 
with no false hopes. She felt too surely the decay 
of her bodily strength, and she resolved to perform 
what temporal duties yet remained for her, while 
her faculties were yet unclouded. 

On the 12th of October she executed that cele- 
brated testament, which reflects so clearly the 
peculiar qualities of her mind and character. She 
begins with prescribing the arrangements for her 
burial. She orders her remains to be transported 
to Granada, to the Franciscan monastery of Santa 
Isabella in the Alhambra, and there deposited in a 
low and humble sepulchre, without other memorial 
than a plain inscription on it. "But," she con- 
tinues, "should the king my lord, prefer a sepul- 
chre in some other place, then my will is that my 
body be there transported, and laid by his side ; 
that the union we have enjoyed in this world, and, 
through the mercy of God, may hope again for 
our souls in heaven, may be represented by our 
bodies in the earth." Then, desirous of correcting 



202 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

by her example, in this last act of her life, the 
wasteful pomp of funeral obsequies to which the 
Castilians were addicted, she commanded that her 
own should be performed in the plainest and most 
unostentatious manner, and that the sum saved by 
this economy should be distributed in alms among 
the poor. 

Concluding in the same beautiful strain of con- 
jugal tenderness in which she began, she says, " I 
beseech the king, my lord, that he will accept all 
my jewels, or such as he shall select, so that, seeing 
them, he may be reminded of the singular love I 
bore him while living, and that I am now waiting 
for him in a better world ; by which remembrance 
he may be encouraged to live more justly and 
holily in this." 

She had now adjusted all her worldly concerns, 
and she prepared to devote herself, during the 
brief space which remained, to those of a higher 
nature. It was «but the last act of a life of prepa- 
ration. She had the misfortune, common to per- 
sons of her rank, to be separated in her last mo- 
ments from those whose filial tenderness might 
have done so much to soften the bitterness of 
death. But she had the good fortune, most rare, 
to have secured for this trying hour the solace of 
disinterested friendship ; for she beheld around 






THE TRUTH AXD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 203 

her the friends of her childhood, formed and 
proved in the dark season of adversity. 

As she saw them bathed in tears around her bed, 
she calmly said, " Do not weep for me, nor waste 
your time in fruitless prayers for my recovery, but 
pray rather for the salvation of my soul." At 
length, having received the sacraments, and per- 
formed all the offices of a sincere and devout 
Christian, she gently expired a little before noon, 
on "Wednesday, November 26, 1504, in the fifty- 
fourth year of her age, and thirtieth of her reign. 

"My hand," says Peter Martyr, in a letter writ- 
ten on the same day to the archbishop of Granada, 
" falls powerless by my side, for very sorrow. The 
world has lost its noblest ornament ; a loss to be 
deplored not only by Spain, which she has so long 
carried forward in the career of glory, but by every 
nation in Christendom ; for she was the mirror of 
every virtue, the shield of the innocent, and an 
avenging sword to the wicked. I know of none 
of her sex, in ancient or modern times, who in my 
judgment is at all worthy to be named with this 
incomparable woman." 

Isabella was of the middle height, and well pro- 
portioned. She had a clear, fresh complexion, 
with light blue eyes and auburn hair — a style of 
beauty exceedingly rare in Spain. Her features 



204 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTAXT WRITERS TO 

were regular, and universally allowed to be un- 
commonly handsome. The illusion which attaches 
to rank, more especially when united with engag- 
ing manners, might lead us to suspect some exag- 
geration in the encomiums so liberally lavished on 
her. But they would seem to be in a great meas- 
ure justified by the portraits that remain of her, 
which combine a faultless symmetry of features 
with singular sweetness and intelligence of ex- 
pression. 

Her manners were most gracious and pleasing. 
They were marked by natural dignity and modest 
reserve, tempered by an affability which flowed 
from the kindliness of her disposition. She was 
the last person to be approached with undue fa- 
miliarity : yet the respect which she imposed was 
mingled with the strongest feelings of devotion 
and love. 

Among her moral qualities, the most conspicu- 
ous, perhaps, was her magnanimity. She betrayed 
nothing little or selfish, in thought or action. Her 
schemes were vast, and executed in the same noble 
spirit in which they were conceived. She scorned 
to avail herself of advantages offered by the per- 
fidy of others. "Where she had once given her 
confidence, she gave her hearty and steady sup- 
port ; and she was scrupulous to redeem any pledge 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 205 

she had made to those who had ventured in her 
cause. She sustained Ximenes in all his salutary- 
reforms. She seconded Columbus in the prosecu- 
tion of his arduous enterprise, and shielded him 
from the calumny of his enemies. She did the 
same good service to her favorite, Gonsalvo de 
Cordova ; and the day of her death was, and, as it 
proved, truly for both, as the last of their good 
fortune. Artifice and duplicity were abhorrent to 
her character. She was incapable of harboring 
any petty distrust or latent malice ; and although 
stern in the execution and exaction of public jus- 
tice, she made the most generous allowance, and 
even sometimes advances, to those who had per- 
sonally injured her. 

But the principle which gave a peculiar coloring 
to every feature of Isabella's mind, was her piety. 
It shone forth from the very depths of her soul with 
a heavenly radiance which illuminated her whole 
character. Fortunately, her earliest years had been 
passed in the rugged school of adversity, under 
the eye of a mother who implanted in her serious 
mind such strong principles of religion as nothing 
in after-life had power to shake. 

William H. Prescott, 
History of the Reign of Ferdinand 
and Isabella the Catholic. 



THE JESUITS. 



The party which had now the undisputed as- 
cendant were denominated " Jesuits," as a term of 
reproach, by the enemies of that famous society 
in the Church of Rome, as well as by those among 
the Protestant communions. A short account of 
their origin and character may facilitate a faint 
conception of the admiration, jealousy, fear, and 
hatred, — the profound submission or fierce resist- 
ance, — which that formidable name once inspired. 
Their institution originated in pure zeal for relig- 
ion, glowing in the breast of Loyola, a Spanish 
soldier, — a man full of imagination and sensibility, 
— in a country where wars, rather civil than 
foreign, waged against unbelievers for ages, had 
rendered a passion for spreading the Catholic faith 
a national point of honor, and blended it with the 
pursuit of glory as well as with the memory of 
past renown. The legislative forethought of his 
successors gave form and order to the product of 
enthusiasm, and bestowed laws and institutions on 
their society, which were admirably fitted to its 

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THE TKUTH AKD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 207 

various ends. Having arisen in the age of the Ref- 
ormation they naturally became the champions of 
the Church against her enemies. They cultivated 
polite literature with splendid success ; they were 
the earliest and perhaps the most extensive reform- 
ers of European education, which in their schools 
made a larger stride than it has done at any suc- 
ceeding moment ; * and by the just reputation of 
their learning, as well as by the weapons with 
which it armed them, they were enabled to carry 
on a vigorous contest against the most learned im- 
pugners of the authority of the Church. 

While the nations of the Peninsula hastened to 
spread religion in the newly explored regions of 
the East and West, the Jesuits, the missionaries of 
that age, either repaired or atoned for the evils 
caused by their countrymen. In India they suf- 
fered martyrdom with heroic constancy. They 
penetrated through the barrier which Chinese 



* u For education," says Bacon, within fifty years of the 
institution of the Order, ' ' consult the schools of the Jesuits. 
Nothing hitherto tried in practice surpasses them" (De 
Augment. Scient., lib. vi., cap. 4.) ''Education, that excel- 
lent part of ancient discipline, has been, in some sorts, re- 
vived of late times in the colleges of the Jesuits, of whom 
in regard of this and of some other points of human learn- 
ing and moral matters I may say ' Talis cum sis utinam nos- 
ter esses ' " (Advancement of Learning). 



208 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

policy opposed to the entrance of strangers, — cul- 
tivating the most difficult of languages with such 
success as to compose hundreds of volumes in it ; 
and, by the public utility of their scientific ac- 
quirements, obtained toleration, patronage, and 
personal honors, from that jealous government. 
The natives of America, who generally felt the 
comparative superiority of the European race only 
in a more rapid or a more gradual destruction, and 
to whom even the Quakers dealt out little more 
than penurious justice, were, under the paternal 
rule of the Jesuits, reclaimed from savage manners, 
and instructed in the arts and duties of civilized 
life. At the opposite point of society, they were 
fitted by their release from conventual life, and 
their allowed intercourse with the world, for the 
perilous office of secretly guiding the conscience 
of princes. They maintained the highest station 
as a religious body in the literature of Catholic coun- 
tries. No other association ever sent forth so many 
disciples who reached such eminence in depart- 
ments so various and unlike. While some of their 
number ruled the royal penitents at Versailles 
or the Escurial, others were teaching the use of 
the spade and the shuttle to the naked savages of 
Paraguay ; a third body daily endangered their 
lives in an attempt to convert the Hindus to Chris- 






THE TEUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 209 

tianity ; a fourth carried on the controversy against 
the Reformers ; a portion were at liberty to culti- 
vate polite literature ; while the greater part con- 
tinued to be employed either in carrying on the 
education of Catholic Europe, or in the govern- 
ment of their society, and in ascertaining the 
ability and disposition of the junior members, so 
that well-qualified men might be selected for the 
extraordinary variety of offices in their immense 
commonwealth. The most famous Constitutional- 
ists, the most skilful casuists, the ablest school- 
masters, the most celebrated professors, the best 
teachers of the humblest mechanical arts, the mis- 
sionaries who could most bravely encounter mar- 
tyrdom, or who with the most patient skill could 
infuse the rudiments of religion into the minds of 
ignorant tribes or prejudiced nations, were the 
growth of their fertile schools. 

Sir Jas. Mackintosh, 
Review of the Causes of Revolution. 1688. 



[RESIGNATION OF CHAELES Y. 



This great Emperor, in the plenitude of his 
power, and in possession of all the honors which 
can flatter the heart of man, took the extraordi- 
nary resolution to resign his kingdoms ; and to 
withdraw entirely from any concern in business or 
the affairs of this world, in order that he might 
spend the remainder of his days in retirement and 
solitude. 

Though it requires neither deep reflection, nor 
extraordinary discernment, to discover that the 
state of royalty is not exempt from cares and dis- 
appointments ; though most of those who are ex- 
alted to a throne, find solicitude, and satiety, and 
disgust, to be their perpetual attendants, in that 
envied pre-eminence ; yet, to descend voluntarily 
from the supreme to a subordinate station, and to 
relinquish the possession of power in order to at- 
tain the enjoyment of happiness, seems to be an 
effort too great for the human mind. 

Several instances, indeed, occur in history, of 
monarchs who have quitted a throne, and have 

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THE TRUTH AXD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 211 

ended their days in retirement. But they were 
either weak princes, who took this resolution 
rashly, and repented of it as soon as it was taken ; 
or unfortunate princes, from whose hands some 
strong rival had wrested their sceptre, and com- 
pelled them to descend w T ith reluctance into a pri- 
vate station. 

Diocletian is, perhaps, the only prince capable of 
holding the reins of government, who ever resigned 
them from deliberate choice ; and who continued, 
during many years, to enjoy the tranquillity of 
retirement, without fetching one penitent sigh, or 
casting back one look of desire toward the power 
or dignity which he had abandoned. 

No wonder, then, that Charles' resignation 
should fill all Europe with astonishment, and give 
rise, both among his contemporaries and among 
the historians of that period, to various conjectures 
concerning the motives which determined a prince, 
whose ruling passion had been uniformly the love 
of power, at the age of fifty-six, when objects of 
ambition operate with full force on the mind, and 
are pursued with the greatest ardor, to take a reso- 
lution so singular and unexpected. 

The Emperor, in pursuance of his determina- 
tion, having assembled the States of the Low 
Countries at Brussels, seated himself, for the last 



212 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

time, in the chair of state ; on one side of which 
was placed his son, and on the other his sister, the 
queen of Hungary, regent of the ]STetherlands, with 
a splendid retinue of the grandees of Spain, and 
princes of the empire standing behind him. 

The president of the council of Flanders, by his 
command, explained in a few words his intention 
in calling this extraordinary meeting of the state. 
He then read the instrument of resignation by 
which Charles surrendered to his son Philip all his 
territories, jurisdiction, and authority in the Low 
Countries ; absolving his subjects there from their 
oath of allegiance to him, which he required them 
to transfer to Philip, his lawful heir ; and to serve 
him with the same loyalty and zeal that they had 
manifested during so long a course of years, in 
support of his government. 

Charles then rose from his seat, and leaning on 
the shoulder of the Prince of Orange, because he 
was unable to stand without support, he addressed 
himself to the audience ; and, from a paper which 
he held in his hand, in order to assist his memory, 
he recounted with dignity, but without ostenta- 
tion, all the great things which he had undertaken 
and performed since the commencement of his 
administration. 

He observed, that from the seventeenth year of 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 213 

his age, lie had dedicated all his thoughts and at- 
tention to public objects, reserving no portion of 
his time for the indulgence of his ease, and very 
little for the enjoyment of private pleasures ; that 
either in a pacific or hostile manner, he had visited 
Germany nine times, Spain six times, France four 
times, Italy seven times, and the Low Countries 
ten times, England twice, Africa as often, and had 
made eleven voyages by sea. 

That while his health permitted him to discharge 
his duty, and the vigor of his constitution was 
equal in any degree to the arduous office of gov- 
erning dominions so extensive, he had never shun- 
ned labor nor repined under fatigue ; that now 
when his health was broken, and his vigor ex- 
hausted by the rage of an incurable distemper his 
growing infirmities admonished him to retire. 

Nor was he so fond of reigning, as to retain the 
sceptre in an impotent hand which % was no longer 
able to protect his subjects, or to render them 
happy ; that instead of a sovereign worn out with 
diseases, and scarcely half alive, he gave them one 
in the prime of life, accustomed already to govern, 
and who added to the vigor of youth all the atten- 
tion and sagacity of maturer years. 

That if during the course of a long administra- 
tion, he had committed any material error in gov- 






214 TKIBUTES OF PBOTESTANT WEITERS TO 

ernment ; or if under the pressure of so many and 
great affairs, and amid the attention which he had 
been obliged to give to them he had either neg- 
lected or injured any of his subjects, he now im- 
plored their forgiveness. 

That for his part, he should ever retain a grateful 
sense of their fidelity and attachment, and would 
carry the remembrance of it along with him to the 
place of his retreat, as his sweetest consolation, 
as well as the best reward for all his services ; and 
in his last prayers to Almighty God would pour 
forth his ardent wishes for their welfare. 

Then turning toward Philip, who fell on his 
knees and kissed his father's hand, " If," said he, 
" I had left you by my death this rich inheritance 
to which I had made such large additions, some 
regard would have been justly due to my memory 
on that account ; but now, when I voluntarily 
resign to you -what I might have still retained, I 
may well expect the warmest expression of thanks 
on your part. 

" With these, however, I dispense, and shall con- 
sider your concern for the welfare of your subjects 
and your love of them, as the best and most accept- 
able testimony of your gratitude to me. It is in 
your power, by a wise and virtuous administration, 
to justify the extraordinary proof which I give 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 215 

this day of my paternal affection, and to demon- 
strate that yon are worthy of the confidence which 
I repose in yon. 

u Preserve an inviolable regard for religion ; 
maintain the Catholic faith in its pnrity ; let the 
laws of yonr country be sacred in your eyes ; en- 
croach not on the rights and privileges of yonr 
people ; and if the time shall ever come when yon 
shall wish to enjoy the tranquillity of private life, 
may yon have a son endowed with such qualities 
that yon can resign yonr sceptre to him with as 
much satisfaction as I give np mine to yon." 

As soon as Charles had finished this long ad- 
dress to his subjects, and to their new sovereign, 
he sunk into the chair exhansted and ready to 
faint with the fatigue of so extraordinary an effort. 
During his discourse, the whole audience melted 
into tears ; some from admiration of his magnan- 
imity ; others softened by the expressions of 
tenderness toward his son, and of love to his peo- 
ple ; and all were affected with the deepest sorrow 
at losing a sovereign who had distinguished the 
Netherlands, his native country, with particular 
marks of his regard and attachment. 

A few weeks after the resignation of the Nether- 
lands, Charles, in an assembly no less splendid, and 
with a ceremonial equally pompous, resigned to 



216 TRIBUTES OP PEOTESTAXT WRITEKS TO 

his son tlie crowns of Spain, with, all the territories 
depending on them, both in the old and in the 
new world. Of all these vast possessions, he 
reserved nothing for himself but an annual pen- 
sion of a hundred thousand crowns, to defray the 
charges of his family and to afford him a small 
sum for acts of beneficence and charity. 

Nothing now remained to detain him from that 
retreat for which he languished. Everything hav- 
ing been prepared some time for his voyage, he set 
out for Zuitberg in Zealand, where the fleet had 
orders to rendezvous. 

In his way thither, he passed through Ghent ; 
and after stopping there a few days, to indulge 
that tender and pleasing melancholy, which arises 
in the mind of every man in the decline of life, 
on visiting the place of his nativity, and viewing 
the scenes and objects familiar to him in his early 
youth, he pursued his journey, accompanied by 
his son Philip, his daughter the archduchess, his 
sisters the dowager queens of France and Hun- 
gary, Maximilian his son-in-law, and a numerous 
retinue of the Flemish nobility. 

Before he went on board, he dismissed them, 
with marks of his attention or regard ; and tak- 
ing leave of Philip with all the tenderness of a 
father who embraced his son for the last time, he 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 217 

set sail under convoy of a large fleet of Spanish, 
Flemish, and English ships. 

His voyage was prosperous, and agreeable ; and 
he arrived at Laredo in Biscay, on the eleventh 
day after he left Zealand. As soon as he landed, 
he fell prostrate on the ground ; and considering 
himself now as dead to the world, he kissed the 
earth, and said, " Naked came I out of my mother's 
womb, and naked I now return to thee, thou com- 
mon mother of mankind." 

From Laredo he proceeded to Valladolid. There 
he took a last and tender leave of his two sisters ; 
whom he would not permit to accompany him to 
his solitude, though they entreated it with tears ; 
not only that they might have the consolation of 
contributing, by their attendance and care, to miti- 
gate or to soothe his sufferings, but that they 
might reap instruction and benefit, by joining with 
him in those pious exercises to which he had con- 
secrated the remainder of his days. 

From Valladolid, he continued his journey to 
Plazencia in Estremadura. He had passed through 
that city a great many years before ; and having 
been struck at that time with the delightful situa- 
tion of the monastery of St. Justus, belonging to 
the order of St. Jerome, not many miles distant 

from that place, he had then observed to some of 
10 



218 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTAISTT WRITERS TO 

his attendants, that this was a spot to which Dio- 
cletian might have retired with pleasure. 

The impression had remained so strong on his 
mind, that he pitched upon it as the place of his 
retreat. It was seated in a vale of no great extent, 
watered by a small brook, and surrounded by ris- 
ing grounds, covered with lofty trees. From the 
nature of the soil, as well as the temperature of 
the climate, it was esteemed the most healthful 
and delicious situation in Spain. 

Some months before his resignation, he had sent 
an architect thither, to add a new apartment to 
the monastery, for his accommodation ; but he 
gave strict orders that the style of the building 
should be such as suited his present station, rather 
than his former dignity. It consisted only of six 
rooms, four of them in the form of friars' cells, 
with naked walls ; the other two, each twenty feet 
square, were hung with brown cloth, and furnished 
in the most simple manner. 

They were on a level with the ground, with a 
door on one side into a garden, of which Charles 
himself had given the plan, and had filled it with 
various plants, which he purposed to cultivate 
with his own hands. On the other side, they com- 
municated with the chapel of the monastery, in 
which he was to perform his devotions. 



THE TEUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 219 

Into this humble retreat, hardly sufficient for the 
comfortable accommodation of a private gentle- 
man, did Charles enter, with twelve domestics 
only. He buried there, in solitude and silence, 
his grandeur, his ambition, together with all those 
vast projects which, during half a century, had 
alarmed and agitated Europe ; filling every king- 
dom in it, by turns, with the terror of his arms, 
and the dread of being subjected to his power. 

In this retirement, Charles formed such a plan 
of life for himself as would have suited the con- 
dition of a private person of a moderate fortune. 
His table was neat but plain ; his domestics few ; 
his intercourse with them familiar ; all the cumber- 
some and ceremonious forms of attendance on his 
person were entirely abolished, as destructive of 
that social ease and tranquillity which he courted, 
in order to soothe the remainder of his days. 

As the mildness of the climate, together with, 
his deliverance from the burdens and cares of gov- 
ernment, procured him, at first, a considerable 
remission from the acute pains with which he had 
been long tormented, he enjoyed, perhaps, more 
complete satisfaction in this humble solitude than 
all his grandeur had ever yielded him. 

The ambitious thoughts and projects which had 
so long engrossed and disquieted him, were quite 



220 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WEITEES. 

effaced from his mind. Far from taking any part 
in the political transactions of the princes of 
Europe, he restrained his curiosity even from any 
inquiry concerning them ; and he seemed to view 
the busy scene which he had abandoned, with all 
the contempt and indifference arising from his 
thorough experience of its vanity, as well as from 
the pleasing reflection of having disentangled him- 
self from its cares. 

William Robertson, 
History of the Reign of the Emperor Charles 
the Fifth. 



THE NECESSITY OF AN INFALLIBLE 
GUIDE. 



The characteristic I speak of is an absolute 
infallibility. Any supernatural religion that re- 
nounces its claim to this, it is clear can profess to 
be a semi-revelation only. It is a hybrid thing, 
partly natural and partly supernatural, and it thus 
practically has all the qualities of a religion that 
is wholly natural. In so far as it professes to be 
revealed, it of course professes to be infallible ; 
but if the revealed part be in the first place hard 
to distinguish, and in the second place hard to un- 
derstand — if it may mean many things, and many 
of those contradictory — it might just as well have 
been never made at all. To make it in any sense 
an infallible revelation, or in other words a revela- 
tion at all, to us, we need a power to interpret the 
testament that shall have equal authority with 
that testament itself. 

Simple as this truth seems, mankind have been 
a long time in learning it. Indeed, it is only in 
the present day that its practical meaning has come 

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222 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

generally to be recognized. But now at this mo- 
ment, upon all sides of us, history is teaching it to 
us by an example, so clearly that we can no longer 
mistake it. 

That example is Protestant Christianity, and the 
condition to which, after three centuries, it is now 
visibly bringing itself. It is at last beginning to 
exhibit to us the true results of the denial of in- 
fallibility to a religion that professes to be super- 
natural. It is fast evaporating into a mere natural 
theism, and is thus showing us what, as a govern- 
ing power, natural theism is. Let us look at Eng- 
land, Europe, and America, and consider the con- 
dition of the entire Protestant world. Religion, it 
is true, we shall find in it ; but it is religion from 
which not only the supernatural element is disap- 
pearing, but in which the natural element is fast 
becoming nebulous. It is indeed growing, as Mr. 
Leslie Stephen says it is, into a religion of dreams. 
All its doctrines are growing vague as dreams, and 
like dreams their outlines are forever changing. 
There is hardly any conceivable aberration of 
moral license that ( has not, in some quarter or 
other, embodied itself into a rule of life, and 
claimed to be the proper outcome of Protestant 
Christianity. 

Now considering the way in which I have just 



THE TKUTH A1ST) BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 223 

spoken of Protestantism, it may seem to many 
that I have dismissed this question already. With 
the 'enlightened' English thinker such certainly 
will be the first impression. But there is one point 
that snch thinkers all forget : Protestant Chris- 
tianity is not the only form of it. They have still 
the form to deal with, which is the oldest, the most 
legitimate, and the most coherent — the Church of 
Rome. They surely can not forget the existence 
of this Church or her magnitude. To suppose this, 
would be to attribute to them too insular, or rather 
too provincial, an ignorance. The cause, however, 
certainly is ignorance, and an ignorance which, 
though less surprising, is far deeper. In this 
country the popular conception of Rome has been 
so distorted by our familiarity with Protestantism, 
that the true conception of her is something quite 
strange to us. Our divines have exhibited her to 
us as though she were a lapsed Protestant sect, and 
they have attacked her for being false to doctrines 
that were never really hers. They have failed to 
see that the first and essential difference which 
separates her from them lies, primarily, not in any 
special dogma, but in the authority on which all 
her dogmas rest. Protestants, basing their religion 
on the Bible solely, have conceived that Catholics 
of course profess to do likewise ; and have covered 



i 



224 TEIBTJTES OF PKOTESTA!S T T WEITEES TO 

them with invective for being traitors to their 
supposed profession. But the Church's primary 
doctrine is her own perpetual infallibility. She is 
inspired, she declares, by the same Spirit that in- 
spired the Bible ; and her voice is, equally with 
the Bible, the voice of God. 

Her doctrines, as she one by one unfolds them, 
emerge upon us like the petals of a half-closed 
bud. They are not added arbitrarily from without ; 
but are developed from within. When she formu- 
lates in these days something that has not been 
formulated before, she is no more enunciating a 
new truth than was Newton when he enunciated 
the theory of gravitation. Whatever truths, 
hitherto hidden, she may in the course of time 
grow conscious of, she holds that these were always 
implied in her teaching. 

But the picture of the Church thus far is only 
half drawn. She is all this, but she is something 
more than this. She is not only the parliament of 
spiritual man, but she is such a parliament guided 
by the Spirit of God. The work of that Spirit 
may be secret, and to the natural eye untraceable, 
as the work of the human will is in the human 
brain. But none the less it is there. 

Totam infusa per artzis 
Mens agitat molem, et magna se corpore miscet. 



THE TKUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 225 

If we would obtain a true view of Catholicism, 



we must begin by making a clean sweep of all tlie 
views that, as outsiders, we had been taught to en- 
tertain about her. We must, in the first place, 
learn to conceive her as a living, spiritual body, as 
infallible and as authoritative now, as she ever 
was, with her eyes undimmed and her strength not 
abated, continuing to grow still as she has con- 
tinued to grow hitherto : and the growth of the 
new dogmas that she may from time to time enun- 
ciate, we must learn to see are, from her stand- 
point, signs of life and not signs of corruption. 
And further, when we come to look into her more 
closely, we must separate carefully the diverse ele- 
ments we find in her — her discipline, her pious 
opinions, her theology, and her religion. 

Let honest inquirers do this to the best of their 
power, and their views will undergo an unlooked- 
for change. 

William Hurrell Mallook, 

Is Life Worth Living ? 

10* 






THE PRESENT STATE OF PROTEST- 
ANTISM. 



The Protestant religion, the union of its several 
Clmrclies having been shaken, and indeed entirely 
dissolved, by the multiplicity of confessions and 
sects which were formed during, and after, the 
Reformation, does not, like the Catholic Church, 
present an appearance of external unity, but a 
motley variety of forms. And we freely acknowl- 
edge that, as in outward appearance, our Church 
is split into numberless divisions and subdivisions, 
so also in her religious principles and opinions she 
is internally divided and disunited. The Lutheran 
Society resembles, in its separate Churches and 
spiritual power, a worm cut up into the most 
minute portions, each one of which continues to 
move as long as it retains power ; but at last, by 
degrees, loses at once the life and the power of 
motion which it retained. Were Luther to rise up 
from his grave, he could not possibly recognize as 
his own, or as members of the society which he 
founded, those teachers who in our Church would 
fain, nowadays, be considered as his successors. 

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THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 227 

The dissolution of the Protestant Church is in- 
evitable : her frame is so thoroughly rotten that 
no farther patching will avail. The whole struc- 
ture of evangelical religion is shattered and few 
look with sympathy on its tottering or its fall. 

Within the compass of a square mile you may 
hear four, five, six different gospels. The people, 
believe me, mark it well; they speak most con- 
temptuously of their teachers, whom they hold 
either for blockheads or knaves, in teaching these 
opposite doctrines ; because in their simplicity 
they believe that truth is but one, and can not 
conceive how each of these gentlemen can have a 
separate one of his own. Growing immorality, a 
consequence of contempt for religion, in many 
places concurs also as a cause to its deeper down- 
fall. The multitude cut the knot which galls them, 
ma ch boldly forward, and fling themselves into 
the arms of Atheism in thought and deed. Oh, 
Protestantism, has it then, at last, come to this 
with thee, that thy disciples protest against all 
religion ? Facts, which are before the eyes of the 
whole world, declare aloud, that this signification 
of thy name is no idle play upon words ; though I 
know that the confession will excite a flame of in- 
dignation against myself. 

Wilhelm Martin Leberecht De Wette. 



SACRIFICE OF THE MASS. 



In every sacrifice there is the person who offers, 
the thing which is offered, and the cause of offer- 
ing. Now in this Sacrament of the Altar, the 
offerer is the Priest ; and indeed the sovereign 
Priest is Christ himself, who not only offered 
Himself on the cross when He was suffering for 
us, but also exercises His priestly office forever to 
the consummation of ages, and now also offers 
Himself for us to God the Father through the 
ministry of the Priest. It is therefore He is called 
in Scripture, " a priest forever according to the 
order of MelcMsedec "/ in which offering of bread 
(as nothing can be more manifest) the Eucharistic 
sacrifice is allegorically prefigured" in the Scrip- 
ture itself. The thing offered, or the Victim 
or Host, is Christ himself, whose Body and Blood 
are subject to immolation and libation, under the 
appearance of the elements. ISTor do I see what is 
wanting here to the nature of a true sacrifice. For 
why may not that be offered to God which is 
present under the symbols, since the sensible spe- 

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THE TKUTH A1ST) BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 229 

cies of bread and wine are meet matter to be 
offered, and in tliem did the oblation of Melchis- 
edec consist ; and since that which is contained in 
the Eucharist is the most precious of all things, 
and the most worthy to be offered to God % Thus, 
by this most beautiful provision has the Divine 
mercy enabled our poverty to present an offering 
which God may not disdain ; whereas He himself 
is infinite, and nothing would otherwise proceed 
from us bearing any proportion to His infinite per- 
fection, no libation could be found capable of pro- 
pitiating God, but one which itself should be of 
infinite perfection. For, by a mysterious dispo- 
sition, it occurs that, as often as the consecration 
takes place, Christ, always giving Himself to us 
anew r , may always again be offered to God, and 
thus represents and seals the perpetual efficacy of 
His first oblation on the Cross. For no new effi- 
cacy is superadded to the efficacy of the Passion, 
from this propitiatory Sacrifice, repeated for the re- 
mission of sins ; but its entire efficacy consists in 
the representation and application of that first 
bloody Sacrifice, the fruit of which is the Divine 
Grace bestowed on all those who, being present at 
this tremendous Sacrifice, worthily celebrate the 
oblation in unison with the Priest. And since, in 
addition to the remission of eternal punishment 



230 TRIBUTES OF FKOTESTAKT WEITEBS. 

and the gift of the merits of Christ for the hope 
of eternal life, we further ask of God, for ourselves 
and others, both living and dead, many other salu- 
tary gifts (and among those, the chief is the miti- 
gation of that paternal chastisement which is due 
to every sin, even though the penitent be restored 
to favor) 5 it is therefore clearly manifest, that 
there is nothing in our entire worship more pre- 
cious than the Sacrifice of this Divine Sacrament, 
in which the Body of our Lord itself is present. 
Gottfried Wilhemi voi Leibxitz, 

Sy sterna Theologieum. 



THE ADORATION OF THE BLESSED 
SACRAMENT. 



It is difficult to supply to a Christian a greater 
occasion than is presented in this Divine Sacra- 
ment, wherein God himself renders present to us 
the Body which He has assumed. For although 
He is equally present at all times, and in all places, 
as well by His substance as by His aid, yet, as it is 
impossible for us, at all times, and in all places, to 
direct our mind expressly to Him, and to render 
Him perpetual signs of honor, prudence will point 
out the propriety, in ordering the details of divine 
worship, of making of certain times, places, causes, 
and occasions. And God himself, in assuming a hu- 
man body into the unity of His Person, has given us 
a peculiar and most signal occasion of adoring Him ; 
for no one will doubt the justice and congruity of 
adoring God while He appears in the visible form 
of Christ ; and the same must be admitted wher- 
ever it is certain that Christ is corporeally present 
(for the Divinity is present in all places and times), 
even though it be after an invisible manner ; now 

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232 TRIBUTES OF PROTEST kNT WEITEKS TO 

it is perfectly certain that this condition is ful- 
filled in the most holy Sacrament. Hence, if 
tliere be any case in which the practice of adoring 
may congruously be introduced, it is in the case of 
this Sacrament. And thus it has been justly 
ordained that the highest solemnity of external 
Christian worship should be devoted to the Sacra- 
ment of the Eucharist ; because the object pro- 
posed by our Saviour in its institution, was to en- 
kindle the love of God, which is the highest act of 
external Christian worship, and to testify and 
nourish charity. For when our Lord, at the Last 
Supper, delivered the supreme commands of His 
last will, He wished that we should remember Him 
(like all who love and are beloved in turn), and 
that we should love one another as members of His 
one Body, whereof He has made us all partakers. 
And hence the Church has always employed the 
Eucharist as the test of unity, and has been careful 
not to admit to its mysteries, which may be re- 
garded as the inmost recesses of Christianity, any 
except the proven and purified. To no others, in- 
deed, was it permitted to be even present at the 
mysteries. It is certain, moreover, that the an- 
cients also adored the Eucharist ; and indeed Am- 
brose and Augustine expressly apply to the adora- 
tion of Christ's Body in the mysteries the words 
of the Psalm, "Adore ye His footstool" 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 233 

And in the end, since the necessity has ceased 
for deferring to Pagan prejudices, either by con- 
cealing the mysteries, or by abstaining from cer- 
tain external signs, which might offend the weak, 
or wear the semblance of Paganism, it has gradu- 
ally come to pass that the most exquisite rites of 
our external worship have been devoted to this 
venerable Sacrament ; especially in the West, where 
there has not been any necessity to consult for the 
prejudices of the Saracens. Hence it has been 
ordained, not only that the people prostrate them- 
selves at the elevation of the Sacrament after con- 
secration ; but also, that when borne to the sick, or 
otherwise carried in procession, it shall be attended 
with every demonstration of honor ; that from 
time to time, whether on occasions of public neces- 
sity, or from some other cause, it shall be exposed 
for adoration ; and that as the pledge of God's 
presence on earth, it shall be celebrated yearly by 
a special festival, with the utmost joy, and, as it 
were, triumph of the Church. 

Gottfried Wilhelm yojst Leibnitz, 

Systema Theologicum. 



A PROCESSION OF THE BLESSED SACRA- 
MENT IN THE CATHEDRAL OF AMIENS. 



I can almost fancy that I see it now, as I saw it 
for tlie first time on such an evening as this. The 
stupendous height of the vaulted roof ; the rich 
foliage of the piers ; the tall lancet arches throw- 
ing themselves upward ; the interlacings of the 
decorated window-tracery ; the richness of the 
stained glass ; the glow of the sunlight on the 
southern chapels ; the knotted intricacies of the 
vaulting ribs ; the flowers and wreaths and holy 
symbols, that hung self -poised over the head ; the 
graceful shafts of triforium ; the carved angels, 
that with outstretched wings keep guard over the 
sacred building ; the low, yet delicately carved 
choir-stalls ; the gorgeous altar, faintly seen be- 
yond them ; the sublime apse, with its inimitably 
slim lancets, carrying the eye up higher and higher, 
through the dark cloister- gallery, through the 
blaze of the crimson clere-story to the marble gran- 
deur of the fretted roof ; lights and carving and 
jewels, and gold, and the sunny brightness of the 

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THE TRUTH Al^D BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 235 

nave, and the solemn grayness of the choir ; these 
are all but accessories to the scene. The huge 
nave-piers rise from the midst of a mighty multi- 
tude; the high-born lady; the peasant mother 
with her infant ; the gray-headed laborer ; the gay 
bourgeoisie ; the child that knows only the sanctity 
of the place ; the strong man and the cripple ; the 
wise and the unlearned ; the great and the small ; 
the rich and the poor ; all meet as equals. The 
sweet music floats along from the choir ; the amen 
bursts from the congregation. Now the organ, at 
the west-end, takes up the strain, sweetly and 
solemnly, like the music of far-off angels, and as 
the holy doors open, pours forth the hymn, " The 
banners of the King come forth." White-robed 
boys strew the way with rose-leaves ; there is the 
gleaming and the perfume of silver censers ; there 
are the rich silver crosses and the pastoral staff ; 
there is the sumptuous pall that covers the Host ; 
there is an endless train of priests with copes and 
vestments bright as the hues of a summer sunset, 
gemmed with jewels of many lands, lustrous with 
gold, and chased with flowers, and wTeaths, and 
devices of pearl ; but each and all bearing, though 
in different forms, that one symbol, the cross. 
Right and left the crowd part as the train passes, 
and as the pall is borne by, every knee is bent; 



236 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS. 

every head bowed. And now the soft breathings 
of the organ die away; voice, and clarionet, and 
flute take np the hymn. " The banners of the King " 
move statelily down the nave ; and in every pause 
of the strain, not a sound is to be heard save the 
silver chime of the falling censer chains. Now 
they enter the north aisle ; now they bear up again 
towards the choir ; now they wind among its 
chapels ; fainter and fainter arises the holy hymn 
as they recede eastward ; now with faint mellowed 
sweetness it steals from the distant shrine of our 
Lady ; now it is silent, and the organ takes up the 

note of praise. 

Key. J. M. Neale, 
Hierologus ; or> the Church Tourists. 



JACQUELINE. 



Death lies on her, like an untimely frost 
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. 

Shakespeare. 

" Deab mother, is it not the bell I hear ? " 

" Yes, my child ; the bell for morning prayers. 
It is Sunday to-day." 

" I had forgotten it. But now all days are alike 
to me. Hark ! it sounds again, — louder, — louder. 
Open the window, for I love the sound. The sun- 
shine and the fresh morning air revive me. And 
the church bell, — mother, — it reminds me of 
the holy Sunday mornings by the Loire, — so calm, 
so hushed, so beautiful ! Now give me my prayer- 
book, and draw the curtain back, that I may see 
the green trees and the church-spire. I feel better 
to-day, dear mother." 

It was a bright, cloudless morning in August. 
The dew still glistened on the trees ; and a slight 
breeze wafted to the sick-chamber of Jacqueline 
the song of the birds, the rustle of the leaves, and 
the solemn chime of the church-bells. She had 

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238 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

been raised up in bed, and, reclining upon the pil- 
low, was gazing wistfully upon the quiet scene 
without. Her mother gave her the prayer-book, 
and then turned away to hide a tear that stole 
down her cheek. 

At length the bells ceased. Jacqueline crossed 
herself, kissed a pearl crucifix that hung around 
her neck, and opened the silver clasps of her mis- 
sal. For a time she seemed wholly absorbed in her 
devotions. Her lips moved, but no sound was 
audible. At intervals the solemn voice of the 
priest was heard at a distance, and then the con- 
fused responses of the congregation, dying away 
in inarticulate murmurs. Ere long the thrilling 
chant of the Catholic service broke upon the ear. 
At first it was low, solemn, and indistinct ; then it 
became more earnest and entreating, as if inter- 
ceding and imploring pardon for sin ; and then 
arose louder and louder, full, harmonious, majestic, 
as it wafted the song of praise to heaven — and 
suddenly ceased. Then the sweet tones of the 
organ were heard, — trembling, thrilling, and rising 
higher and higher, and filling the whole air with 
their rich, melodious music. What exquisite ac- 
cords ! — what noble harmonies ! — what touching 
pathos ! The soul of the sick girl seemed to kindle 
into more ardent devotion, and to be wrapt away 






THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 239 

to heaven in the full, harmonious chorus, as it 
swelled onward, doubling and redoubling, and roll- 
ing upward in a full burst of rapturous devotion ! 
Then all was hushed again. Once more the low 
sound of the bell smote the air, and announced the 
elevation of the Host. The invalid seemed en- 
tranced in prayer. Her book had fallen beside 
her, — her hands were clasped, — her eyes closed, — 
her soul retired within its secret chambers. Then 
a more triumphant peal of bells arose. The tears 
gushed from her closed and swollen lids ; her 
cheek was flushed ; she opened her dark eyes, and 
fixed them with an expression of deep adoration 
and penitence upon an image of the Saviour on the 
cross, which hung at the foot of her bed, and her 
lips again moved in prayer. Her countenance ex- 
pressed the deepest resignation. She seemed to 
ask only that she might die in peace, and go to 
the bosom of her Redeemer. 

The mother was kneeling by the window, with 
her face concealed in the folds of the curtain. She 
arose, and, going to the bedside of her child, threw 
her arms around her and burst into tears. 

" My dear mother, I shall not live long ; I feel it 
here. This piercing pain, — at times it seizes me, 
and I can not — can not breathe. " 

"My child, you will be better soon." 



240 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

" Yes, mother, I shall be better soon. All tears, 
and pain, and sorrow will be over. The hymn of 
adoration and entreaty I have just heard, I shall 
never hear again on earth. Next Sunday, mother, 
kneel again by that window as to-day. I shall not 
be here, upon this bed of pain and sickness ; but 
when you hear the solemn hymn of worship, and 
the beseeching tones that wing the spirit up to 
God, think, mother, that I am there, with my sweet 
sister who has gone before us, — kneeling at our 
Saviour's feet, and happy, — O, how happy ! " 

The afflicted mother made no reply, — her heart 
was too full to speak. 

" You remember, mother, how calmly Amie died. 
She was so young and beautiful ! I always pray 
that I may die as she did. I do not fear death, as 
I did before she was taken from us. But, O, — this 
pain, — this cruel pain ! — it seems to draw my mind 
back from heaven. When it leaves me, I shall die 
in peace." 

" My poor child ! God's holy will be done ! " 

The invalid soon sank into a quiet slumber. The 
excitement was over, and exhausted nature sought 
relief in sleep. 

The persons between whom this scene passed 
were a widow and her sick daughter, from the 
neighborhood of Tours. They had left the banks 



THE TKUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 241 

of the Loire to consult tlie more experienced phy- 
sicians of the metropolis, and had been directed to 
the Maison de sante at Auteuil for the benefit of 
the pure air. But all in vain. The health of the 
uncomplaining patient grew worse and worse, and 
it soon became evident that the closing scene was 
drawing near. 

Of this Jacqueline herself seemed conscious ; 
and toward evening she expressed a wish to receive 
the last sacraments of the church. A priest was 
sent for ; and ere long the tinkling of a little bell 
in the street announced his approach. He bore in 
his hand a silver chalice containing the consecrated 
Host, and a small vessel filled with the holy oil of 
the extreme unction hung from his neck. Before 
him walked a boy carrying a little bell, whose 
sound announced the passing of these symbols of 
the Catholic faith. In the rear, a few of the vil- 
lagers, bearing lighted wax tapers, formed a short 
and melancholy procession. They soon entered 
the sick-chamber, and the glimmer of the tapers 
mingled with the red light of the setting sun that 
shot his farewell rays through the open window. 
The vessel of oil and the silver chalice were placed 
upon the table in front of a crucifix that hung 
upon the wall, and all present, excepting the priest, 

threw themselves upon their knees. The priest 
11 



242 TKIBUTES OF PBOTESTAIN'T WRITERS TO 

then approaclied the bed of the dying girl, and 
said, in a slow and solemn tone, — 

" The King of kings and Lord of lords has 
passed thy threshold. Is thy spirit ready to re- 
ceive him ? " 

" It is, father." 

" Hast thou confessed thy sins ? " 

"Holy father, no." 

" Confess thyself, then, that thy sins may be for- 
given, and thy name recorded in the book of life." 

And, turning to the kneeling crowd around, he 
waved his hand for them to retire, and was left 
alone with the sick girl. He seated himself beside 
her pillow, and the subdued whisper of the con- 
fession mingled with the murmur of the evening 
air, which lifted the heavy folds of the curtains, 
and stole in upon the holy scene. Poor Jacqueline 
had few sins to confess, — a secret thought or two 
toward the pleasures and delights of the world, — 
a wish to live, unuttered, but which, to the eye of 
her self-accusing spirit, seemed to resist the wise 
providence of God ;— no more. The confession of 
a meek and lowly heart is soon made. The door 
was again opened ; the attendants entered, and 
knelt around the bed, and the priest proceeded, — 

" And now prepare thyself to receive with con- 
trite heart the body of our blessed Lord and Ee- 



THE TRUTH A1H) BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 243 

deemer. Dost thou believe that our Lord Jesus 
Christ was conceived by the Holy Spirit, and born 
of the Virgin Mary ? " 

" I believe." 

And all present joined in the solemn response, — 

"I believe." 

" Dost thou believe that the Father is God, that 
the Son is God, and that the Holy Spirit is God, — 
three persons and one God \ " 

"I believe." 

" Dost thou believe that the Son is seated on the 
right hand of the Majesty on high, whence he shall 
come to judge the quick and the dead ? " 

" I believe." 

" Dost thou believe that by the holy sacraments 
of the church thy sins are forgiven thee, and that 
thus thou art made worthy of eternal life % " 

" I believe." 

u Dost thou pardon, with all thy heart, all who 
have offended thee in thought, word, or deed ? " 

"I pardon them." 

"And dost thou ask pardon of God and thy 
neighbor for all offences thou hast committed 
against them, either in thought, word, or deed ? " 

" I do ! " 

" Then repeat after me, — Lord Jesus, I am not 
worthy, nor do I merit, that thy divine majesty 



244 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

should enter this poor tenement of clay ; but, ac- 
cording to thy holy promises, be my sins f orgiven, 
and my soul washed white from all transgression." 

Then, taking a consecrated Host from the vase, 
he placed it between the lips of the dying girl, 
and, while the assistant sounded the little silver 
bell, said, — 

" Corpus Domini nostri Jesu Christi custodiat 
animam tuam in vitam eternam" 

And the kneeling crowd smote their breasts and 
responded in one solemn voice, — 

" Amen ! " 

The priest then anointed the invalid. When 
these ceremonies were completed, the priest and 
his attendants retired, leaving the mother alone 
with her dying child, who, from the exhaustion 
caused by the preceding scene, sank into a death- 
like sleep. 

1 ' Between two worlds life hovered like a star, 
'Twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge." 

The long twilight of the summer evening stole 
on ; the shadows deepened without, and the night- 
lamp glimmered feebly in the sick-chamber ; but 
still she slept. She was lying with her hands 
clasped upon her breast, — her pallid cheek resting 
upon the pillow, and her bloodless lips apart, but 






THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 245 

motionless and silent as the sleep of death. Not a 
breath interrupted the silence of her slumber. Not 
a movement of the heavy and sunken eyelid, not a 
trembling of the lip, not a shadow on the marble 
brow, told when the spirit took its flight. It 
passed to a better world than this : — 

" There's a perpetual spring 1 , — perpetual youth; 
No joint-benumbing cold, nor scorching heat, 
Famine, nor age, have any being there." 

H. W. Longfellow, 
Outre-Mer. 



PENANCE, 



There is another circumstance connected with 
the institutions of the Church, which has not. in 
general, been so much noticed as it deserves. I 
allude to its penitentiary system, which is the more 
interesting in the present day, because, so far as 
the principles and applications of moral law are 
concerned, it is almost completely in unison with 
the notions of modern philosophy. If we look 
closely into the nature of the punishments inflicted 
by the Church at public penance, which was its 
principal mode of punishing, we shall find that 
their object was, above all other things, to excite 
repentance in the soul of the guilty ; and in that 
of the lookers-on, the moral terror of example. 
But there is another idea which mixes itself up 
with this — the idea of expiation. I know not, 
generally speaking, whether it be possible to sep- 
arate the idea of punishment from that of expia- 
tion : and whether there be not in all punishment, 
independently of the desire to awaken the guilty 
to repentance, and to deter those from vice who 

v246) 



THE TRUTH A1N T D BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 247 

might be under temptation, a secret and imperious 
desire to expiate the wrong committed. Putting 
this question, however, aside, it is sufficiently evi- 
dent that repentance and example were the objects 
proposed by the Church in every part of its system 
of penance. And is not the attainment of these 
very objects the end of every truly philosophical 
legislation ? Is it not for the sake of these very 
principles that the most enlightened lawyers have 
clamored for reform in the penal legislation of 
Europe ? Open their books — those of Jeremy Ben- 
tham for example — and you will be astonished at 
the numerous resemblances which you will every- 
where find between their plans of punishment and 
those adopted by the Church. 

F. Guizot, 
History of Civilization. 



CONFESSION, 



The remission of sins, which takes place in the 
sacrament of Baptism, and that in Confession, are 
both equally gratuitous ; both are equally founded 
on the faith of Christ ; both equally require peni- 
tence in the adults ; — but there is this difference, 
that, in the former, nothing is especially prescribed 
by God beyond the rite of ablution ; but, in the 
latter, it is commanded, that he who would be 
made clean, shall show himself to the priest, and 
confess his sins ; and that, afterward, he shall, at the 
sentence of the priest, subject himself to some pun- 
ishment, which may serve as an admonition for the 
future. And, whereas God appointed His priests 
to be the physicians of the soul, He willed that 
the malady of the patient should be made known 
to them, and his conscience bared before their eyes : 
whence the penitent Theodosius is related to have 
said wisely to Ambrose, "'Tis thine to prescribe 
and compound the medicines : 'tis mine to receive 
them." Now the medicines are the laws which the 
priest imposes on the penitent, as well that he may 

(248) 



THE TKUTH AKD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 249 

feel the evil that is past, as that he may avoid it 
for the time to come ; and they are called by the 
name, "Satisfaction," because this obedience of 
the penitent, in voluntarily chastising himself, is 
agreeable to God, and mitigates or removes the 
temporal punishment which should otherwise be 
expected at the hands of God. 

This whole institution, it can not be denied, is 
worthy of Divine wisdom ; and if, in the Christian 
religion, there be any ordinance singularly excel- 
lent, and worthy of admiration, it is this, which 
even the Chinese and Japanese admired ; for the 
necessity of confessing at once deters many, espec- 
ially those who are not yet obdurate, from sinning 
and administers great comfort to the fallen ; inso- 
much that I believe a pious, grave, and prudent 
confessor to be a powerful instrument in the hands 
of God for the salvation of souls ; for his counsel 
is of great avail in assisting us to govern our pas- 
sions ; to discover our vices ; avoid occasions of 
sin ; to make restitution and reparation for injury ; 
to dissipate doubts ; to raise up the broken spirit ; 
and, in one word, to remove, or mitigate, all the 
evils of the soul. And if, in human things, there 
is scarce anything better than a faithful friend, 
what must it be, when that friend is bound, by the 

inviolable religious obligation of a Divine sacra- 
11* 



250 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS. 

ment, to hold faith with us, and assist us in diffi- 
culties ? And although of old when the fervor of 
piety was more warm, public confession and pen- 
ance were in use among Christians, nevertheless, 
in order to consult our weakness, it hath pleased 
God to declare by the Church, that private confes- 
sion to a priest is sufficient for the faithful ; an 
obligation of silence being further attached, in 
order that the confession may be more thoroughly 
freed from the influence of human respect. 

Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibnitz, 

By dema Theologicum. 



THE INVOCATION OF THE SAINTS. 



It is certain that angel-guardians are assigned 
to us by God. Now the Scripture compares the 
saints to angels, and calls them "equal to angels. " 
That the saints have some concern in human affairs 
appears to be conveyed by the " talking of Moses 
and Elias with Christ"; and that even particular 
events come to the knowledge of the saints and 
angels, (whether it be in the mirror of the divine 
vision, or by the natural clearness and wide-ranging 
powers of vision, possessed by the glorified minds,) 
is insinuated in Christ's declaration, that there is 
" joy in heaven upon one sinner that doth pen- 
ance." Further, that God, in consideration of the 
saints, even after their death, grants favors to men, 
(although it is only through Christ that the saints, 
whether of the Old or of the New Testament, pos- 
sess their dignity.) is indicated by the prayers 
found in the Scripture: " Remember, O Lord, 
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, thy servants'': a form 
not very different from that which the Church 
commonly employs : " Grant, Lord, that we mar 

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252 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

be assisted by the merits and intercession of Thy 
saints"; that is, "Regard their labors, which by 
Thy gift they have borne for Thy name ; hear their 
prayers, to which Thine only-begotten Son hath 
given efficacy and value." 

Seeing, therefore, that the blessed souls, in their 
present state, are much more intimately present in all 
our affairs, and see all things more nearly than while 
they lived on earth, (for men are only acquainted 
with the few which occur in their sight, or are re- 
ported to them by others,) seeing that their charity, 
or desire for aiding us is more ardent ; seeing, in 
fine, that their prayers are more efficacious than 
those which they offered formerly in this life, that 
it is certain that God has granted many favors 
even to the intercession of the living, and that we 
look for great advantages from the union of the 
prayers of our brethren with our own ; I do not 
perceive how it can be made a crime to invoke a 
blessed soul, or a holy angel, and to beg his inter- 
cession or his assistance, according as the life and 
history of the martyr, or other circumstances ap- 
pear to suggest ; especially if this worship is con- 
sidered but as a slender accessory of that supreme 
worship which is immediately directed to God 
alone ; and if, whatever may be its character, it is 
offered for the sake of testifvin^ our reverence and 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 253 

humility toward God, and our affection for God's 
servants, and springs from that pious solicitude 
which prompts us in proportion to the lowly sense 
we entertain of our own unworthiness to desire to 
unite the prayers of other pious persons, and, 
above all those of the Blessed, with our own. And 
tins when it is analyzed, this very accessory of 
worship terminates with God himself ; to whose 
gifts alone the saints are indebted for all that they 
are or can do, and to whom is due a sovereign 
honor and love incomparably transcending all 
other love. 

Gottfried Wilhelm yox Leibnitz, 

Sy sterna Theologicum, 



THE SYMBOLISM OF RITUAL. 



Veet few, comparatively, are sufficiently instruct- 
ed in the significance of Catholic worship thorough- 
ly to appreciate and enjoy it. If the Ceremonial of 
the Church be generally considered beautiful and 
imposing, even by those who understand but the 
material part, what effect ought it not to produce 
on such as really understand its spirit ? " If, in- 
stead of condemning from the elevation of their 
ignorance," says the Abbe Martinet, " the numerous 
ceremonies of the Catholic worship, the objectors 
would take the pains to penetrate the deep signifi- 
cance of them, and study their vast and beautiful 
symbolism, they would see that everything is per- 
fectly connected in this beautiful system, that every 
part has its reason, and also its effect, and that the 
skill with which the Church has introduced so 
great a variety into the very limited plan of its 
Liturgy can not be sufficiently admired. What do 
we find in this series of mysterious pictures which 
it presents to our eye in the course of a year? 

(254) 



THE TKUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 255 

Nothing less than the history of the world, from 
the Word which created Heaven and earth, to the 
Word which is to produce a new Heaven and a 
new earth ; the history of the Redeemer, from the 
day He was promised to guilty man, to the day 
when He will receive into His glory, the last in 
time, of the elect ; the history of the Christian 
Church, from the period when it was sighing in 
the Catacombs, to the final period, when, pursued 
into the depths of the deserts by triumphant im- 
piety, it will see the banner of the spouse unfurled 
in heaven, and will entone an eternal Hosannah." 

The order and arrangement of the whole ex- 
ternal system of the Church is so contrived as 
plainly to symbolize her office toward her people, 
and to exhibit her life and energies side by side 
with the energies and life of the world, sanctifying 
and exalting, by the power of the hidden life with 
God, the entire circle of our daily life in com- 
munion with our fellow-men. The whole year is, 
as it were, thus taken up, and sanctified by Re- 
ligion ; and we see that, during its course, there is 
not a truth which the Church does not preach, not 
a virtue or grace which she does not put forth for 
our imitation, not a chord of the human heart 
which she does not strive to touch, so that "one is 



256 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS. 

led," says the Abbe Ganme. " to feel of eacli several 
solemnity that which one is forced to say of every 
Christian verity, % Si elle nexistit })as. ilfaudrait 
TinventerS " 

Rev. Charles James Le Cteyt, 
The Church and the World: Essays on Ques- 
tions of the Day. By Various Writers. 



EELIGIOUS MEMOEIALS. 



The rosary, which you see suspended around 
my neck, is a memorial of sympathy and respect 
for an illustrious man. I was passing through 
France, in the reign of ISTapoleon, by the peculiar 
privilege granted to a savant, on my road to Italy. 
I had just returned from the Holy Land and had 
in my possession two or three of the rosaries which 
are sold to pilgrims at Jerusalem, as having been 
suspended in the Holy Sepulchre. Pius VII. was 
then in imprisonment at Fontainebleau. By a 
special favor, on the plea of my return from the 
Holy Land, I obtained permission to see this ven- 
erable and illustrious pontiff. I carried with me 
one of my rosaries. 

He received me with great kindness. I tendered 
my services to execute any commissions, not polit- 
ical ones, he might think fit to intrust me with, in 
Italy, informing him that I was an Englishman ; 
he expressed his thanks, but declined troubling 
me. I told him that I was just returned from the 
Holy Land; and, bowing with great humility, 
offered him my rosary from the Holy Sepulchre. 

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258 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

He received it with a smile, touched it with his 
lips, gave his benediction over it, and returned it 
into my hands, supposing, of course, that I was a 
Roman Catholic. I had meant to present it to his 
Holiness ; but the blessing he had bestowed upon 
it, and the touch of his lips, made it a precious 
relic to me ; and I restored it to my neck, round 

which it has ever since been suspended 

"We shall meet again; adieu": and he gave me 
his paternal blessing. 

It was eighteen months after this interview, that 
I went out, with almost the whole population of 
Rome, to witness and welcome the triumphal entry 
of this illustrious father of the Church into his 
capital. He was borne on the shoulders of the 
most distinguished artists, headed by Canova ; and 
never shall I forget the enthusiasm with which 
he was received ; it is impossible to describe the 
shouts of triumph and of rapture sent up to 
heaven by every voice. And when he gave his 
benediction to the people, there was a universal 
prostration, a sobbing, and marks of emotion and 
joy, almost like the bursting of the heart. I heard 
everywhere around me cries of " The holy father ! 
the most holy father ! His restoration is the work 
of God ! " 

I saw tears streaming from the eyes of almost 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 259 

all the women about me, many of whom were sob- 
bing hysterically, and old men were weeping as if 
they were children. I pressed my rosary to my 
breast on this occasion, and repeatedly touched 
with my lips that part of it which had received 
the kiss of the most venerable pontiff. I preserve 
it with a kind of hallowed feeling, as the memorial 
of a man whose sanctity, firmness, meekness, and 
benevolence are an honor to his Church and to 
human nature : and it has not only been useful to 
me, by its influence upon my own mind, but it has 
enabled me to give pleasure to others ; and has, I 
believe, been sometimes beneficial in insuring my 
personal safety. 

I have often gratified the peasants of Apulia and 
Calabria, by presenting them to kiss a rosary from 
the Holy Sepulchre, which had been hallowed by 
the touch of the lips and benediction of the Pope : 
and it has even been respected by, and procured me 
a safe passage through, a party of brigands, who 
once stopped me in the passes of the Apennines. 

Sir Humphry Davy, 

Consolation in Travel^ or the Last Bays of a 
Philosopher. 



THE BEAUTIES OF THE CATHOLIC 
TTOESHIP. 



There is something extremely touching in the 
maternal, accessible, and poetical character of 
Catholicism : and the soul finds a constant asylum 
in her quiet chapels, before the Christmas candles, 
in the soft purifying atmosphere of incense, in the 
outstretched arms of the heavenly mother, while 

«. 7 

it sinks down before her in humility, filial meek- 
ness, and contemplation of the Saviours love. The 
Catholic churches, with their ever-opened portals, 
their ever-burning lamps, the ever-resounding 
voices of their thanksgiving, with their masses, 
their ever-recurring festivals and days of com- 
memoration, declare with touching truth, that here 
the arms of a mother are ever open, ready to re- 
fresh every one who is troubled and heavy laden ; 
that here the sweet repast of love is prepared for 
all, and a refuge by day and by night. When we 
consider this constant occupation of priests, this 
carrying in and out of the Holy of Holies, the ful- 
ness of emblems, the ornaments, varying every 

(260) 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 261 

day, like the changing leaves of the flower, the 
Catholic Church will appear like a deep, copious 
well in the midst of a city, which collects around 
it all the inhabitants, and whose waters, perpetu- 
ally cool, refresh, bless, and pervade all around. 

Count Isidore yon Loben. 



CHARLES CARROLL OF CARROLLTON. 



We do a thing of very pernicious tendency if we 
confine the records of history to the most eminent 
personages who bear a part in the events which it 
commemorates. There are often others whose sac- 
rifices are much greater, whose perils are more ex- 
treme, and whose services are nearly as valuable as 
those of the more prominent actors, and who yet 
have, from chance or by the modesty of a retiring 
and unpretending nature, never stood forward to 
fill the foremost places, or occupy the larger spaces 
in the eyes of the world. To forget such men is as 
inexpedient for the public service as it is unjust 
toward the individuals. But the error is the far 
greater of those who, in recording the annals of 
revolution, confine their ideas of public merit to 
the feats of leaders against established tyranny, or 
the triumphs of orators in behalf of freedom. 
Many a man in the ranks has done more by his 
zeal and self-devotion than any chief to break the 
chains of a nation, and among such men Charles 
Carroll, the last survivor of the Patriarchs of the 

American Revolution, is entitled to the first place. 
(262) 



THE TKUTH A1TO BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 263 

His family was settled in Maryland ever since 
the reign of James II., and had during that period 
been possessed of the same ample property, the 
largest in the Union. It stood, therefore, at the 
head of the aristocracy of the country ; was nat- 
urally in alliance with the Government ; could 
gain nothing while it risked everything by a 
change of dynasty ; and therefore, according to all 
the rules and the prejudices and the frailties which 
are commonly found guiding the conduct of men in 
a crisis of affairs, Charles Carroll might have been 
expected to take part against the revolt, certainly 
never to join in promoting it. Such, however, was 
not this patriotic person. He was among the fore- 
most to sign the celebrated Declaration of Inde- 
pendence. All who did so were believed to have 
devoted themselves and their families to the Furies. 
As he set his hand to the instrument, the whisper 
ran round the Hall of Congress, " There goes mil- 
lions of property ! " And there being many of the 
same name, when he heard it said, " Nobody will 
know what Carroll it is," as no one signed more 
than his name, and one at his elbow addressing 
him remarked, " You'll get clear — there are several 
of the name — they will never know which to take." 
" Not so," he replied, and instantly added his resi- 
dence, "of Carrollton." 



264 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

He was not only a man of firm mind, and steadily- 
fixed principles ; lie was also a person of great ac- 
complishments and excellent abilities. Educated 
in tlie study of tile civil law at one of the French 
colleges, he had resided long enough in Europe to 
perfect his learning in all the ordinary branches of 
knowledge. On his return to America, he sided 
with the people against the mother country, and 
was soon known and esteemed as among the ablest 
writers of the Independent party. The confidence 
reposed in him soon after was so great, that he was 
joined with Franklin in the commission of three 
sent to obtain the concurrence of the Canadians in 
the revolt. He was a Member of Congress for the 
first two trying years, when the body was only 
fourteen in number, and might rather be deemed 
a cabinet council for action than anything like a 
deliberative senate. He then belonged, during the 
rest of the war, to the legislature of his native 
State, Maryland, until 1788, when he was elected 
one of the United States' Senate, and continued to 
act for three years in this capacity. The rest of 
his time, until he retired from public life in 1804, 
was passed as a Senator of Maryland. In all these 
capacities he has left behind him a high reputation 
for integrity, eloquence, and judgment. 
It is usual with Americans to compare the last 



THE TEUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 265 

thirty years of his life to the Indian summer — 
sweet as it is tranquil, and partaking neither of 
the fierce heats of the earlier, nor the chilling 
frosts of the later season. His days were both 
crowned with happiness, and lengthened far beyond 
the usual period of human existence. He lived to 
see the people whom he had once known 900,000 
in number pass twelve millions ; a handful of de- 
pendent colonists become a nation of freemen ; a 
dependent settlement assume its place among the 
first-rate powers of the world ; and he had the de- 
light of feeling that to this consummation he had 
contributed his ample share. As no one had run 
so large a risk by joining the revolt, so no one had 
adhered to the standard of freedom more firmly, 
in all its fortunes, whether waving in triumph or 
over disaster and defeat. He never had despaired 
of the commonwealth, nor ever had lent his ear to 
factious councils ; never had shrunk from any sac- 
rifice, nor ever had pressed himself forward to the 
exclusion of men better fitted to serve the common 
cause. Thus it happened to him that no man was 
more universally respected and beloved ; none had 
fewer enemies ; and notwithstanding the ample 
share in which the gifts of fortune were showered 
upon his house, no one grudged its prosperity. 
It would, however, be a very erroneous view of 
12 



266 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

his merits and of the place which he filled in the 
eye of his country, which should represent him as 
only respected for his patriotism and his virtues. 
He had talents and acquirements which enabled 
him effectually to help the cause he espoused. His 
knowledge was various ; and his eloquence was of a 
high order. It was, like his character, mild anc 
pleasing : like his deportment, correct and faultless. 
Flowing smoothly, and executing far more than it 
seemed to aim at, every one was charmed by it, and 
many were persuaded. His taste was peculiarly 
chaste, for he was a scholar of extraordinary accom- 
plishments ; and few, if any, of the speakers in 
the New World came nearer the model of the 
more refined oratory practiced in the parent state. 
Nature and ease, want of effort, gentleness united 
with sufficient strength, are noted as its enviable 
characteristics ; and as it thus approached th^ tone 
of conversation, so, long after he ceased to appear 
in public, his private society is represented as dis- 
playing much of his rhetorical powers, and has 
been compared not unhappily, by a late writer, to 
the words of Nestor, which fell like vernal snows 
as he spake to the people. In commotions, whether 
of the Senate or the multitude, such a speaker, by 
his calmness and firmness joined, might well hope 
to have the weight, and to exert the control and 



THE TRUTH A1STD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 267 

mediatory authority of him, pietate grams et 
meritis, who 

regit dictis animos et pectora mulcet. 

In 1825, on the anniversary of the Half Century 
after the Declaration of Independence was signed, 
the day -was kept over the whole Union as a grand 
festival, and observed with extraordinary solem- 
nity. As the clock struck the hour when that 
mighty instrument had been signed, another bell 
was also heard to toll. It w^as the passing bell of 
John Adams, one of the two surviving Presidents 
who had signed the Declaration. The other was 
Jefferson ; and it was soon after learned that at 
this same hour he too had expired in a remote 
quarter of the country. 

There now remained only Carroll to survive his 
fellows ; and he had already reached extreme old 
age ; but he lived yet seven years longer, and, in 
1832, at the age of 95, the venerable patriarch was 
gathered to his fathers. 

The Congress went into mourning on his account 
foi three months, as they had done for Washing- 
ton, and for him alone. 

Henry, Lord Brougham, 
Historical Sketches of Statesmen. 



THE SUBVERSION OF LIBERTY IN 
NORTHERN EUROPE. 



It is one of the most remarkable circumstances 
in modern history, that about the middle of the 
seventeenth century, when all other countries were 
advancing toward constitutional arrangement of 
some kind or other, for the security of civil and 
religious liberty, Denmark, by a formal act of the 
States or Diet, abrogated even that shadow of a 
constitution, and invested her sovereigns with full 
despotic power to make and execute law without 
check or control on their absolute authority. Lord 
Moles worth, who wrote an account of Denmark in 
1692, thirty -two years after this singular transac- 
tion, makes the curious observation : " That in the 
Roman Catholic religion, there is a resisting prin- 
ciple to absolute civil power from the division of 
authority with the head of the Church of Rome ; 
but in the north, the Lutheran Church is entirely 
subservient to the civil power, and the whole of 
the northern people of Protestant countries have 
lost their liberties ever since they changed their 

(268) 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 269 

religion." " The blind obedience which, is destruc- 
tive of national liberty is, he conceives, more firmly 
established in the northern kingdoms, by the en- 
tire and sole dependence of the clergy on the 
prince, without the interference of any spiritual 
superior as that of the Pope among the Catholics, 
than in the countries which remained Catholic." 

Samuel Laikg, 

A Tour in Sweden. 



THE RELIGIOUS ORDERS OF THE 
ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH. 



Si^ce tlie glory of God and the happiness of 
our fellow-creatures may be promoted by various 
means, by command or by example, according to 
the condition and disposition of each, the advan- 
tages of that institution are manifest, by which 
besides those who are engaged in active and every- 
day life, there are also found in the Church ascetic 
and contemplative men, who, abandoning the cares 
of life and trampling its pleasures underfoot, de- 
vote their whole being to the contemplation of the 
Deity, and the admiration of His works ; or who, 
freed from personal concerns, apply themselves 
exclusively to watch and relieve the necessities of 
others, some by instructing the ignorant or erring ; 
some by assisting the needy and afflicted. Nor is 
it the least among those marks which commend 
to us that Church, which alone has preserved the 
name and the badges of Catholicity, that we see 
her alone produce and cherish these illustrious 

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THE TRUTH A1S T D BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 271 

examples of the eminent virtues and of the as- 
cetic life. 

Wherefore, I confess, that I have ardently ad- 
mired the religious orders, and the pious confrater- 
nities, and the other similar admirable institutions ; 
for they are a sort of celestial soldiery upon earth, 
provided they are governed according to the insti- 
tutes of the founders, and regulated by the Supreme 
Pontiff for the use of the universal Church. For 
what can be more glorious than to carry the light of 
truth to distant nations, through seas and fires and 
swords — to traffic in the salvation of souls alone — 
to forego the allurements of pleasure, and even 
the enjoyment of conversation and of social inter- 
course, in order to pursue, undisturbed, the con- 
templation of abstruse truths and divine medita- 
tion — to dedicate oneself to the education of youth 
in science and in virtue — to assist and console the 
wretched, the despairing, the lost, the captive, the 
condemned, the sick — in squalor, in chains, in dis- 
tant lands — undeterred even by the fear of pesti- 
lence from the lavish exercise of these heavenly 
offices of charity ! The man who knows not, or 
despises these things, has but a vulgar and plebeian 
conception of virtue ; he foolishly measures the 
obligations of men toward their God by the per- 
functory discharge of ordinary duties, and by that 



272 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTASTT WRITERS. 

frozen habit of life, devoid of zeal, and even of 
soul, vrliicli prevails commonly among men. For 
it is not a counsel, as some persuade themselves, 
but a strict precept, to labor with every power of 
soul and body, no matter in what condition of life 
we may be, for the attainment of Christian perfec- 
tion, with which neither wedlock, nor children, nor 
public office, are incompatible (although they throw 
difficulties in the way), but it is only a counsel to 
select that sta^e of life which is more free from 
earthly obstacles, upon which selection our Lord 
congratulated Magdalen. 

Gottfried TTilhelm vo:s" Leibxitz, 
Systema Theologicum. 



vows. 



The general principles and sacred obligation of 
Vows are plainly revealed in Holy Scripture. Not 
that their institution is recorded. The Law did 
not introduce them ; but they are incidentally 
spoken of. Jacob's vow is recorded in the annals 
of the earliest ages, as a religious ordinance in or- 
dinary use, and in the Book of Job, which is iden- 
tified with the most universal traditions of prim- 
eval revelation, vows are classed among the simplest 
acts of personal religion : " Thou shalt make thy 
prayer unto Him, and He shall hear thee, and thou 
shalt pay thy vows." They are to be regarded, 
therefore, as one of the many religious practices 
of patriarchal times, which being subsequently em- 
bodied in the Law, and regulated by its enactments, 
were thus invested with a fresh and more binding 
authority. 

Two classes of vows were recognized in the Mo- 
saic Law, — vows of devotion and of abstinence. 
They were also distinguished as vows affirmative 

12* (273) 



274 TPwEBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

and negative — the one as implying some offering 
made to Gods the other some restraint laid on the 
natural desires, or the use of certain things in them- 
selves lawful. 

There was no limit to the objects which a vow 
might embrace. Persons, lands, cattle, houses, and 
property of any sort, are either expressly or by im- 
plication included in the possible category of votive 
offerings. The only exceptions were the first-born 
of man or beast, and the property of priests. But 
these were excepted only as being already devoted 
to God. They were His by a special covenant, the 
first-born as the representatives of the race which 
He had redeemed, the sacerdotal possessions as con- 
secrated to His service. These exceptions, therefore, 
only the more strikingly proved, that the subject- 
matter of vows was coextensive with every human 
personality or possession. 

The Xazarite vow was of all others the most im- 
portant, on account both of its own special provis- 
ions and their symbolic significance. It is generally 
believed that the custom prevailed before the Mo- 
saic period. Only its peculiar regulations were 
provided for in the Law. The external obligations 
incurred by this vow were, to let the hair grow, to 
abstain from wine, vinegar, or any produce of the 
grape, even from grapes themselves, and to avoid 



THE TKUTH AXD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 275 

all approach to a dead body, even that of the near- 
est relation. 

It has been observed, and the point is of deep 
interest, as strikingly exhibiting the inner meaning 
of this remarkable self -consecration, that there is 
a close resemblance, as to their outward provisions, 
between the obligations of the Nazarite and those 
of the High-Priest. The rule of avoiding all con- 
tact with the dead, and that of abstinence from 
wine, applied to both. There is even ground for 
supposing that the Nazarite was permitted to enter 
the sanctuary, as bearing something of the priestly 
character, at least of the sanctity specially belong- 
ing to the sacred office. Moreover, Jewish writers 
generally were of opinion that some deep spiritual 
import was involved in the Nazarite rule, though 
they differ as to its interpretation. Philo viewed 
it as expressive of spotless inward purity and en- 
tire devotion of the person and his possessions. 
Some even regarded it as symbolizing the opera- 
tion of the Divine Nature in man. That it em- 
braced the whole life, and implied an entire conse- 
cration, was thought to be denoted by the provision, 
that at the completion of the vow, or renewal in 
case of being broken, the three chief sacrifices of 
the Law, the burnt-offering, the sin-offering, and 
the peace-offering, which together consecrated the 



276 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

whole man, were required. A IsTazarite was under- 
stood to identify liimself with each of these several 
acts of oblation. The shorn hair laid and burnt in 
the fire of the altar, was also, according to this 
deeper view, supposed to indicate that person was 
offered to God, — the Divine Law not permitting 
the offering of human blood, and the hair, as a 
portion of the person, being understood to repre- 
sent the whole. That the idea implied is that of 
the setting apart of the life, a self-sacrifice to God, 
is in accordance with the Scriptural terms denot- 
ing the state : " The Lord spake unto Moses, say- 
ing, Speak unto the children of Israel and say unto 
them, When either man or woman shall separate 
themselves to vow the vow of a Nazarite, to sepa- 
rate themselves unto the Lord" etc. It was appar- 
ently the typical anticipation of the regenerate 
soul offering the " living sacrifice, holy, acceptable 
unto the Lord" 

Some writers of note have even supposed that the 
Nazarite rule was ordained as a quasi-sacramental 
representation of man before the fall ; nor is it 
improbable that God would preserve on earth 
some visible signs of man's original creation, a 
state which knew not death, and which implied 
the restraint of the appetites in subjection to the 
will, in harmony with the Divine law, when, as a 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 277 

priest, man lived before God, consecrating himself 
and all his possessions as the highest offering of 
nature to its Creator. 

The ISTazarite rule embraced women as well as 
men. It was, moreover, applicable equally to 
limited periods of days or years, or to the whole 
life. The former case constituted the " Nazarite 
of days." Most commonly the vow was limited to 
a definite period, — thirty, sixty, or a hundred days 
being the ordinary terms. Of Nazarites for life, 
the notable instances mentioned in Scripture, are 
Samson, Samuel, and St. John the Baptist, and 
in each case with the additional element of obedi- 
ence to a superior will in the choice of a rule, the 
devotee accepting his consecration as an act of his 
parents, who were, we can not question, moved by 
God to make this dedication of their child. That 
there was a tendency in the Jewish mind to such 
acts of self-devotion, in order to win the favor of 
God, or deprecate His wrath, or for the cultivation 
of greater strictness of life, is evident from many 
tokens in their history. Beside the Nazarite rule, 
which had the highest possible sanction in the 
Revelations of God, other forms of self -consecra- 
tion had grown up of themselves. The Institutes 
of Rechabites and Essenes arose out of this tend- 
ency. Josephus records, that in his day there 



278 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

were many, particularly persons oppressed by 
sickness, or adverse fortune, who vowed to abstain 
from wine, and go with the head shaven — their 
rale thus being distinguished from that of the 
]STazarite — and to spend a prolonged time in prayer 
during thirty days previously to their offering up 
the promised sacrifice. 

Such vows, especially if undertaken only for 
short periods, would ordinarily pass almost un- 
noticed. "But the Nazarite for life must have 
been, with his flowing hair and persistent refusal 
of strong drink, a marked man. He may have had 
some privileges (as we have seen) which gave him 
something of a priestly character, and (as it has been 
conjectured) he may have given much of his time 
to sacred studies. Though not necessarily cut off 
from social life, yet when the turn of his mind was 
devotional, consciousness of his peculiar dedication 
must have influenced his habits and manner, and in 
some cases probably led him to retire from the 
world." 

Voluntariness was always considered to be an 
essential characteristic of a vow ; and its subject- 
matter some devotion left free to the conscience. 
It was the willing adoption of a rule of life not 
enjoined by the Law, but revealed as pleasing to 
God, and expressive of some high truth by which 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 279 

the soul might aspire to greater nearness to Him. 
That a parent could dedicate his child, is not at 
variance with this principle ; because it was as- 
sumed that the child, when capable of a choice, 
would willingly concur in the dedication. But 
though wholly voluntary before the choice was 
made, it became, when made and uttered " before 
the Lord" solemnly binding. The expressions of 
Holy Scripture on both these points are strong and 
unmistakable. "When thou shalt vow a vow 
unto the Lord thy God, thou shalt not be slack to 
pay it : for the Lord thy God will surely require 
it of thee." And again, " That which is gone out 
of thy lips thou shalt keep and perform ; even a 
free-will offering, according as thou hast vowed 
unto the Lord thy God, which thou hast promised 
with thy mouth." 

The term " before the Lord " had a deep signifi- 
cance in the faith of Israel. He was believed in, 
and dealt with as with a personal God with whom 
definite relations could be formed, by which His 
own dealings also would be influenced. The idea 
involved in the vow was that of a definite contract 
or covenant, entailing a whole series of after con- 
sequences depending on the condition of being 
fulfilled ; a promise and an acceptance mutually 
sealed by which both parties in the covenant were 



280 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

affected. A momentous reality attached to tlie ut- 
tered word beyond what the thought of the heart 
could express. The utterance gave it a palpable 
shape and being, and thus constituted it a reality 
of existence, sealing its truth beyond recall. The 
instinct which to human consciousness invests a 
word with a power and a life beyond the un- 
spoken thought, is evidently an indication of some 
profound truth in the spiritual world, and is as- 
sumed in the revelations of God as the turning-point 
of the obligations incurred by a vow. It lives 
" before the Lord" when spoken, as it did not live 
before, an image, as it were, of the outward form 
of the life of God, impressed on the mind of man, 
and projected forth, uniting him with God. Even 
as God comes forth out of Himself to make a cove- 
nant with His creature, and confirms it by an oath, 
thus establishing it " by two immutable things, in 
which it is impossible for God to lie," so man may 
go forth from himself and bind himself, sealing the 
covenant by his promise. As he speaks the pur- 
pose of his heart, it assumes a substantial existence 
in Heaven, which stands before God as a witness 
for or against the soul which has uttered the word, 
and thus committed itself to all its consequences. 

It is sometimes urged that a continual self-devo- 
tion, ever renewed by ever-repeated acts, while the 



THE TKUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 281 

soul is still free to withdraw, is a more generous 
and self-denying sacrifice than an act which allows 
no recall, which is done once and forever. There is 
no doubt a seeming attractiveness in the thought ; 
but it is difficult to understand what is meant. In 
regard to a material offering, external to oneself, 
such a course would be simply impossible. We 
can not give while we yet retain. To retain the 
power of continually giving, we must be really still 
holding it in our possession. We have not given 
it from the very fact that we have still the power 
of giving it. Can there be a difference in the case 
of giving oneself? If we continually offer our- 
selves, we have at all times the power of withdraw- 
ing the offering ; and this very freedom, which is 
supposed to be deliberately retained, really makes 
it no gift. While it is still in our power it is still 
our own. We may give, or not give, the very next 
hour. It is not that the vow constitutes the gift, 
but the conscious acceptance of the call of G-od 
necessarily, if it be true, involves the future equally 
with the present. It is of God, and partakes of 
His eternity. There ought, indeed, to be the ut- 
most caution, forethought, and deliberation, em- 
bracing both inward dispositions and outward 
duties, a spirit of self- distrust and fear, in the low- 
liest dependence on the leadings of grace and the 



282 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS. 

providence of God ; and all this, moreover, accom 
panied with such, assistance as can be attained 
through the guidance of those to whom the care of 
the soul is rightfully entrusted. But these consid- 
erations, though they greatly affect the wisdom 
and rectitude of the decision, are but conditions of 
its character, not the constituent elements of its 
life. It is the following of Jesus, and the being 
united with His life in the form which He wills to 
impress on the soul, which constitutes its reality ; 
and to leave any reserve of self-choosing in the 
future, is but to "keep back part of the price." 

Rev. T. Thellitsson Carter, 

The Church and the World : Essays on Ques- 
tions of the Day. By Various Writers. 



CELIBACY. 



Ever since the beginning of Christianity there 
hath been two orders or ranks of people among 
good Christians. 

The one that feared and served God in the com- 
mon offices and business of a secnlar worldly life ; 
the other, renouncing the common business and 
common enjoyments of life, as riches, marriage, 
honors, and pleasures, devoted themselves to vol- 
untary poverty, virginity, devotion, and retire- 
ment ; that by this means they might live wholly 
unto God in the daily exercise of a divine and 
heavenly life. 

This testimony I have from the famous ecclesias- 
tical historian Eusebius, who lived at the time of 
the first general council, when the Church was in 
its greatest glory, when its bishops were so many 
holy fathers and eminent saints. "Therefore," 
saith he, " there hath been instituted in the Church 
of Christ two ways or manners of living. The one, 
raised above the ordinary state of nature and 
common ways of living, rejects wedlocks, posses- 

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284 TEIBUTES OF PEOTESTANT WEITEES TO 

sions and worldly goods, and being wholly sepa- 
rate and removed from the ordinary conversations 
of common life, is appropriated and devoted solely 
to the worship and service of God, throngh an ex- 
ceeding degree of heavenly love. 

" They who are of this order of people seem dead 
to the life of this world, and having their bodies 
only npon earth, are in their minds and contem- 
plations dwelling in heaven, from whence, like so 
many heavenly inhabitants, they look down npon 
human life, making intercessions and oblations to 
Almighty God for the whole race of mankind ; 
and this not with the blood of beasts, but the 
highest exercises of true piety, with cleansed and 
purified hearts, and with a whole form of life 
strictly devoted to virtue. 

" Christianity receives this as a perfect manner of 
life. The other is of lower form, and suiting itself 
more to the conditions of human nature, admits 
chaste wedlock, care of children and family, of 
trade and business, and goes through all the em- 
ployments of life, under a sense of piety and fear 
of God." 

If Truth itself hath assured us that there is but 
one tMng needful, what wonder is it that there 
should be some among Christians so full of faith 
as to believe this in the highest sense of the words, 



THE TKTTTH A]TO BEAUTY OE CATHOLICITY. 285 

and to desire such, a separation from tlie world that 
their care and attention to the one thing needful 
may not be interrupted ? 

If the chosen vessel St. Paul hath said, "He that 
is unmarried careth for the things that belong 
to the Lord, how lie may please the Lord "; and 
that " there is this difference also between a wife 
and a virgin : the unmarried woman careth for 
the things of the Lord, that she may be holy, both in 
body and in spirit "; what wonder is it if the purity 
and perfection of the virgin state hath been the 
praise and glory of the Church in its first and 
purest ages ? — that there hath been always some, 
so desirous of pleasing God, so zealous after every 
degree of purity and perfection, so giad of every 
means of improving their virtue, that they have 
renounced the comforts and enjoyments of wed- 
lock, to trim their lamps, to purify their souls and 
wait upon God in a state of perpetual virginity \ 

And if in these our days we want examples of 
these several degrees of perfection; if neither 
clergy nor laity have enough of this spirit ; if we 
are so far departed from it, that a man seems like 
St. Paul at Athens, a setter forth of strange doc- 
trines, when he recommendeth self-denial, renun- 
ciation of the world, regular devotion, retirement, 
virginity, and voluntary poverty, it is because we 



286 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS. 

are fallen into an age when the love not only of 
tlie many, but of most, has waxen cold. These 
rules of holy living are found in the sublimest 
counsels of Christ and His Apostles, suitable to 
the high expectations of another life, proper in- 
stances of a heavenly love, and all followed by the 
greatest saints of the Church. 

William Law, 
Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life. 



THE ANCIENT MONK. 



The great antique heart : how like a child's in 
its simplicity, like a man's in its earnest solemnity 
and depth ! Heaven lies over him wheresoever he 
goes or stands on the Earth ; making all the Earth 
a mystic Temple to him, the Earth's business all a 
kind of worship. Glimpses of bright creatures 
flash in the common sunlight ; angels yet hover 
doing God's messages among men : that rainbow 
was set in the clouds by the hand of God. Won- 
der, miracle encompass the man ; he lives in an 
element of miracle ; Heaven's splendor over his 
head, Hell's darkness under his feet. A great Law 
of Duty, high as these two Infinitudes, dwarfing all 
else, annihilating all else — making royal Richard 
as small as peasant Samson, smaller if need 
be ! The " imaginative faculties " ? " Rude poetic 
ages?" The " primeval poetic element"? for 
God's sake, good readers, talk no more of all that ! 
It was not a Dilettantism this of Abbot Samson. 

(287) 



288 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS. 

It was a Reality, and it is one. The garment only 
of it is dead : the essence of it lives through all 
Time and all Eternity ! 

Thomas Carlyle, 
Past and Present. 



ST. IGNATIUS LOYOLA AND HIS COM- 
PANIQNS. 



Ojst the dawn of the day on which, in the year 
1534, the Church of Rome celebrated the feast of 
the Assumption of Our Blessed Lady, a little com- 
pany of men, whose vestments bespoke their relig- 
ions character, emerged in solemn procession from 
the deep shadows cast by the towers of Notre 
Dame over the silent city below them. In a silence 
not less profound, except when broken by the chant 
of the matins appropriate to that sacred season, 
they climbed the Hill of Martyrs, and descended 
into the Crypt, which then ascertained the spot 
where the Apostle of France had won the crown of 
martyrdom. With a stately though halting gait, 
as one accustomed to military command, marched 
at their head a man of swarthy complexion, bald- 
headed, and of middle stature, who had passed the 
meridian of life ; his deep-set eyes glowing as with a 
perennial fire from beneath brows which, had phre- 
nology then been born, she might have portrayed 
in her loftiest style, but which without her aid, an- 

13 (289) 






290 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

nounced a commission from on high to subjugate 
and to rule mankind. So majestic, indeed, was the 
aspect of Ignatius Loyola, that during the six- 
teenth century few if any of the books of his order 
appeared without the impress of that imperial 
countenance. Beside him in the chapel of St. 
Denys knelt another worshipper, whose manly bear- 
ing, buoyant step, clear blue eye, and finely-chis- 
elled features, contrasted strangely with the solem- 
nities in which he was engaged. Then in early 
manhood, Francis Xavier united in his person the 
dignity befitting his birth as a grandee of Spain, 
and the grace which should adorn a page of the 
Queen of Castile and Arragon. Not less incon- 
gruous with the scene in which they bore their 
parts, were the slight forms of the boy Alphonso 
Salmeron, and of his bosom friend, Jago Laynez, 
the destined successor of Ignatius in his spiritual 
dynasty. With them Nicholas Alphonso Boba- 
dilla, and Simon Rodriguez — the first a teacher, the 
second a student of philosophy — prostrated them- 
selves before the altar, where ministered Peter Fa- 
ber, once a shepherd in the mountains of Savoy, 
but now a priest in holy orders. By his hands was 
distributed to his associates the seeming bread, over 
which he had uttered words of more than miracu- 
lous efficacy ; and then were lifted up their united 



THE TETTTH A]VTD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 291 

voices, uttering, in low but distinct articulation, a 
vow, at tlie deep significance of which the nations 
might have well rejoiced. Never did human lips 
pronounce a vow more religiously observed, or 
pregnant with results more momentous. 

Descended from an illustrious family, Ignatius 
had in his youth been a courtier and a cavalier, and 
if not a poet, at least a cultivator of poetry. At the 
siege of Pampeluna his leg was broken. Books of 
knight-errantry relieved the lassitude of sickness, 
and when these were exhausted, he betook himself 
to pious books. In the lives of the Saints the dis- 
abled soldier discovered a new field of emulation 
and of glory. Compared with their self-conquest 
and their high rewards, the achievements and the re- 
nown of Roland and of Amadis waxed dim. Com- 
pared with the peerless damsels for whose smiles 
Paladins had fought and died, how transcendently 
glorious the image of feminine loveliness and an- 
gelic purity which had irradiated the hermit's cell 
and the path of the wayworn pilgrims ! Far as the 
heavens are above the earth would be the plighted 
fealty of the knight of the Virgin Mother beyond 
the noblest devotion of mere human chivalry. Nor 
were these vows unheeded by her to whom they 
were addressed. Environed in light, and clasping 
her infant to her bosom, she revealed herself to the 



292 TEIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

adoring gaze of lier champion. He rose, suspended 
at her shrine his secular weapons, performed there 
his nocturnal vigils, and with returning day retired 
to consecrate his future life to the glory of the 
Virgo Deipara. 

Standing on the steps of a Dominican church, he 
recited the office of Our Lady, when suddenly 
heaven itself was laid open to the eye of the wor- 
shipper. That ineffable mystery, which the author of 
the Athanasian creed has so beautifully enunciated 
in words, was disclosed to him as an object not of 
faith but of actual sight. The past ages of the 
world were rolled back in his presence, and he be- 
held the material fabric of things rising into being, 
and perceived the motives which had prompted the 
exercise of the creative energy. To his spiritual- 
ized sense was disclosed the actual process by which 
the Host is transubstantiated ; and the other Chris- 
tian verities which it is permitted to common men 
to receive but as exercises of their belief, now be- 
came to him the objects of immediate inspection 
and of direct consciousness. For eight successive 
days his body reposed in an unbroken trance, 
while his spirit thus imbibed disclosures for which 
the tongues of men have no appropriate language. 

On his restoration to human society, Ignatius re- 
appeared in the garb, and addressed himself to the 



THE TRUTH A1TO BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 293 

occupations of other religions men. The first fruit 
of his labors was the book of " Spiritual Exercises." 
It was originally written in Spanish, and appeared 
in a Latin version. By the order of the present 
Pope, Loyola's manuscript, still remaining in the 
Vatican, has been again translated. In this new 
form the book is commended to the devout study 
of the faithful by a bull of Pope Paul III., and by 
an Encyclical Epistle from the present General of 
the Order of Jesus. 

From the publication of the " Spiritual Exer- 
cises " to the vow of Montmartre, nine years elapsed. 
They wore away in pilgrimages, in the working of 
miracles, and in escapes all but miraculous, from 
dangers which the martial spirit of the saint, no 
less than his piety, impelled him to incur. In the 
caverns of Manresa he had vowed to scale the 
heights of "perfection" and it therefore behooved 
him thus to climb that obstinate eminence, in the 
path already trodden by all the canonized and be- 
atified heroes of the Church. But he had also 
vowed to conduct his fellow-pilgrims from the city 
of destruction to the land of Beulah. In prison 
and in shipwreck, fainting with hunger or wasted 
with disease, his inflexible spirit still meditated 
over that bright, though as yet shapeless vision ; 
until at length it assumed a coherent form as he 



294 TEIBTTTES OF PKOTESTAl^T WRITEKS TO 

knelt on the Mount of Olives, and traced the last 
indelible foot-print of the ascending Redeemer of 
mankind. At that hallowed spot had ended the 
weary way of Him who had bowed the heavens, 
and came down to execute on earth a mission of 
unutterable and matchless self-denial ; and there 
was revealed to the prophetic gaze of the future 
founder of the Order of Jesus, the long line of mis- 
sionaries who, animated by his example and guided 
by his instructions, should proclaim that holy 
Name from the rising to the setting sun. At the 
mature age of thirty, possessing no language but 
his own, no science but that of the camp, and no 
literature beyond the biographies of Saints, he be- 
came the self -destined teacher of the future teachers 
of the world. Hoping against hope, he returned 
to Barcelona, and there, as the class-fellow of little 
children, commenced the study of the first rudi- 
ments of the Latin tongue. 

Of the seven decades of human life, the brightest 
and the best, in which other men achieve or con- 
tend for distinction, was devoted by Ignatius to the 
studies preparatory to his great undertaking. 
Grave professors examined him on their prelec- 
tions, and, when these were over, he sought tlie 
means of subsistence by traversing the Netherlands 
and Italy as a beggar. Unheeded and despised as 



THE TKUTH A1TO BEAUTY 0"F CATHOLICITY. 295 

he sat at the feet of the learned, or solicited alms 
of the rich, he was still maturing in the recesses of 
his bosom designs more lofty than the highest to 
which the monarchs of the houses of Yalois or of 
Tudor had ever dared to aspire. In the University 
of Paris he at length found the means of carrying 
into effect the cherished purposes of so many years. 
It was the heroic age of Spain, and the country- 
men of Gonsalvo and Cortez lent a willing ear to 
counsels of daring on any field of adventure, 
whether secular or spiritual. His companions in 
study thus became his disciples in religion. Nor 
were his the commonplace methods of making con- 
verts. To the contemplative and the timid, he en- 
joined hardy exercises of active virtue. To the gay 
and ardent, he appeared in a spirit still more buoy- 
ant than their own. To a debauch ee, whom nothing 
else could move, he presented himself neck-deep in 
a pool of frozen water, to teach the more impres- 
sively the duty of subduing the carnal appetites. 
Nay, he even engaged at billiards with a joyous 
lover of the game, on condition that the defeated 
player should serve his antagonist for a month ; 
and the victorious saint enforced the penalty by 
consigning his adversary to a month of secluded 
devotion. Others yielded at once and without a 
struggle to the united influence of his sanctity and 



296 TEIBUTES OF PEOTESTA^T WE1TEES TO 

genius ; and it is remarkable that, from these more 
docile converts, he selected, with but two excep- 
tions, the original members of his infant order. 
Having performed the initiatory rite of the 
" Spiritual Exercises," they all made a vow on the 
consecrated Host in the Crypt of St. Denys, to 
accompany their spiritual father on a mission to 
Palestine ; or, if that should be impracticable, to 
submit themselves to the Vicar of Christ, to be 
disposed of as missionaries at his pleasure. 

It was in the year 1506 that Francis Xavier, the 
youngest child of a numerous family, was born in 
the castle of his ancestors, in the Pyrenees. Robust 
and active, of a gay humor and ardent spirit, the 
young mountaineer listened with a throbbing heart 
to the military legends of his house, and to the in- 
ward voice which spoke of days to come, when his 
illustrious lineage should derive new splendor from 
his own achievements. But the hearts of his 
parents yearned over the son of their old age ; and 
the enthusiasm which would have borne him to 
the pursuit of glory in the camp, was diverted by 
their counsels to the less hazardous contest for 
literary eminence at the University of Paris. From 
the embrace of Aristotle and his commentators, he 
would, however, have been prematurely withdrawn 
by the failure of his resources (for the Lords of 



THE TRUTH A1STB BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 297 

Xavier were not wealthy), if a domestic prophetess, 
his elder sister, had not been inspired to reveal 
his marvellous career and immortal recompense. 
For a child destined to have altars raised to his 
name throughout the Catholic Church, and Masses 
chanted in his honor till time should be no longer, 
every sacrifice was wisely made ; and he was thus 
enabled to struggle on at the College of St. Bar- 
bara, till he had become qualified to earn his own 
maintenance as a public teacher of philosophy. 
His chair was crowded by the studious, and his 
society courted by the gay, the noble, and the 
rich. It was courted, also, by one who stood 
aloof from the thronging multitude ; among them, 
but not of them. Miserable in dress, but of lofty 
bearing, at once unimpassioned and intensely 
earnest, abstemious of speech, yet occasionally 
uttering, in deep and most melodious tones, words 
of strange significance, Ignatius Loyola was grad- 
ually working over the mind of his young com- 
panion a spell which no difference of tastes, of 
habits, or of age, was of power to subdue. Potent 
as it was, the charm was long resisted. Hilarity 
was the native and indispensable element of 
Francis Xavier, and in his grave monitor he 
found an exhaustless topic of mirth and raillery. 

Armed with satire, which was not always playful, 
13* 



298 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

the light heart of youth contended, as best it 
might, against the solemn impressions which he 
could neither welcome nor avoid. Whether he 
partook of the frivolities in which he delighted, or 
in the disquisitions in which he excelled, or traced 
the windings of the Seine through the forest which 
then lined its banks, Ignatius was still at hand to 
discuss with him the charms of society, of learn- 
ing, or of nature ; but, whatever had been the 
theme, it was still closed by the same awful in- 
quiry, " What shall it profit a man if he gain the 
whole world and lose his own soul ? " The world 
which Xavier had sought to gain, was indeed 
already exhibiting to him its accustomed treachery. 
It had given him amusements and applause ; but 
with his self-government had stolen from him his 
pupils and his emoluments. Ignatius recruited 
both. He became the eulogist of the genius and 
the eloquence of his friend, and, as he presented to 
him the scholars attracted by these panegyrics, 
would repeat them in the presence of the delighted 
teacher; and then, as his kindling eye attested 
the sense of conscious and acknowledged merit, 
would check the rising exultation by the ever- 
recurring question, " What shall it profit ? " Noth- 
ing could damp the zeal of Ignatius. There he 
was, though himself the . poorest of the poor, 



THE TKUTH A1NT) BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 299 

ministering to the wants of Xavier, from a purse 
filled by the alms lie had solicited ; but there 
was also the same unvarying demand, urged in 
the same rich though solemn cadence, "What 
shall it profit \ ? ' In the unrelaxing grasp of the 
strong man — at once forgiven and assisted, re- 
buked and beloved by his stern associate — Xavier 
gradually yielded to the fascination. He became, 
like his master, impassive to all sublunary pains 
and pleasures ; and having performed the initia- 
tory rite of the Spiritual Exercises, excelled all 
his brethren of the Society of Jesus in the fervor 
of his devotion and the austerity of his self-dis- 
cipline. 

John III. of Portugal, resolving to plant the 
Christian faith on the Indian territories which had 
become subject to the dominion or influence of 
his crown, petitioned the Pope to select some fit 
leader in this peaceful crusade. On the advice 
of Ignatius, the choice of the Holy Father fell on 
Francis Xavier. A happier selection could not 
have been made, nor was a summons to toil, to 
suffering, and to death, ever so joyously received. 

As the vessel in which Xavier embarked for 
India fell down the Tagus and shook out her reefs 
to the wind, many an eye was dimmed with un- 
wonted tears ; for she bore a regiment of a thou- 



300 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

sand men to reinforce the garrison of Goa ; nor 
could the bravest of that gallant host gaze on the 
receding land without foreboding that he might 
never see again those dark chestnut forests and 
rich orange groves, with the peaceful convents and 
the long-loved homes reposing in their bosom. 
The countenance of Xavier alone beamed with de- 
light. He knew that he should never tread his 
native mountains more ; but he was not an exile. 
He was to depend for food and raiment on the 
bounty of his fellow-passengers ; but no thought 
for the morrow troubled him. He was going to 
convert nations, of which he knew neither the 
language nor even the names ; but he felt no mis- 
givings. Worn by incessant sea-sickness, with the 
refuse food of the lowest seamen for his diet, and 
the cordage of the ship for his couch, he rendered 
to the diseased services too revolting to be describ- 
ed ; and lived among the dying and the profligate 
the unwearied minister of consolation and of peace. 
In the midst of that floating throng, he knew how 
to create for himself a sacred solitude, and how to 
mix in all their pursuits in the free spirit of a man 
of the world, a gentleman, and a scholar. With 
the viceroy and his officers he talked, as pleased 
them best, of war or trade, of politics or naviga- 
tion ; and to restrain the common soldiers from 



THE TKUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 301 

gambling, would invent for their amusement less 
dangerous pastimes, or even liold the stakes for 
which they played, that by his presence and his 
gay discourse he might at least check the excesses 
which he could not prevent. 

Five weary months (weary to all but him) 
brought the ship to Mozambique, where an en- 
demic fever threatened a premature grave to the 
Apostle of the Indies. But his was no spirit to 
be quenched or allayed by the fiercest paroxysms 
of disease. At each remission of his malady, he 
crawled to the beds of his fellow-sufferers to soothe 
their terrors or assuage their pains. To the eye of 
any casual observer the most wretched of mankind, 
in the esteem of his companions the happiest and 
the most holy, he reached Groa just thirteen months 
after his departure from Lisbon. 

At Goa, Xavier was shocked, and had fear been 
an element in his nature, would have been dis- 
mayed, by the almost universal depravity of the 
inhabitants. It exhibited itself in those offensive 
forms which characterize the crimes of civilized 
men when settled among a feebler race, and re- 
leased from even the conventional decencies of 
civilization. Swinging in his hand a large bell, he 
traversed the streets of the city, and implored the 
astonished crowd to send their children to him, to 



302 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

be instructed in the religion which they still at 
least professed. Though he had never been ad- 
dressed by the soul-stirring name of father, he 
knew that in the hardest and the most dissolute 
heart which had once felt the parental instinct, 
there is one chord which can never be wholly out of 
tune. A crowd of little ones were quickly placed 
under his charge. He lived among them as the 
most laborious of teachers, and the gentlest and 
the gayest of friends ; and then returned them to 
their homes, that by their more hallowed example 
they might there impart, with all the unconscious 
eloquence of filial love, the lessons of wisdom and 
of piety they had been taught. ISTo cry of human 
misery reached him in vain. He became an inmate 
of the hospitals, selecting that of the lepers as 
the object of his peculiar care. Even in the haunts 
of debauchery, and at the tables of the profligate, 
he was to be seen, an honored and a welcome guest; 
delighting that most unmeet audience with the 
vivacity of his discourse, and sparing neither pun- 
gent jests to render vice ridiculous, nor sportive 
flatteries to allure the fallen back to the still dis- 
tasteful paths of soberness and virtue. Strong in 
purity of purpose, and stronger still in one sacred 
remembrance, he was content to be called the friend 
of publicans and sinners. He had in truth long 



THE TRI7TH AKD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 303 

since deserted the standard of prudence, tlie off- 
spring of forethought, for the banners of wisdom, 
the child of love, and followed them through 
perils not to be hazarded under any less triumph- 
ant leader. 

Rugged were the ways along which he was thus 
conducted. In those times, as in our own, there 
was on the Malabar coast a pearl fishery, and then, 
as now, the pearl-divers formed a separate and a 
degraded caste. It was not till after a residence 
of twelve months at Goa, that Xavier heard of 
these people. He heard that they were ignorant 
and miserable, and he inquired no farther. On 
that burning shore his bell once more rang out an 
invitation of mercy, and again were gathered 
around him troops of inquisitive and docile chil- 
dren. For fifteen months he lived among these 
abject fishermen, his only food their rice and water, 
reposing in their huts, and allowing himself but 
three hours' sleep in the four-and-twenty. He be- 
came at once their physician, the arbiter in their 
disputes, and their advocate for the remission of 
their annual tribute with the government of Goa. 
The bishop of that city had assisted him with two 
interpreters, but his impassioned spirit struggled, 
and not in vain, for some more direct intercourse 
with the objects of his care. Committing to memory 



304 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

translations, at the time unintelligible to himself, 
of the creeds and other symbols of his faith, he 
recited them with tones and gestures, which spoke 
at once to the senses and to the hearts of his dis- 
ciples. All obstacles yielded to his restless zeal. 
He soon learned to converse, to preach, and to 
write in their language. Many an humble cottage 
was surmounted by a crucifix, the mark of its con- 
secration ; and many a rude countenance reflected 
the sorrows and the hopes which they had been 
taught to associate with, that sacred emblem. " I 
have nothing to add," (the quotation is from one 
of the letters which at this same time he wrote to 
Loyola,) " but that they who come forth to labor 
for the salvation of idolaters, receive from on high 
such consolations, that if there be on earth such a 
thing as happiness, it is theirs." 

If there be such a thing, it is but as the check- 
ered sunshine of a vernal day. A hostile inroad 
from Madura overwhelmed the poor fishermen who 
had learned to call Xavier their father, threw down 
their simple chapels, and drove them for refuge to 
the barren rocks and sand-banks which line the 
western shores of the strait of Manar. But their 
father was at hand to share their affliction, to pro- 
cure for them from the viceroy at Goa relief and 
food, and to direct their confidence to a still more 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY.* 305 

powerful Father whose presence and goodness they 
might adore even amidst the wreck of all their 
earthly treasures. 

It was a lesson not unmeet for those on whom 
such treasures had been bestowed in the most 
ample abundance ; and Xavier advanced to Trav- 
ancore, to teach it there to the Rajah and his 
courtiers. No facts resting on remote human tes- 
timony can be more exempt from doubt than the 
general outline of the tale which follows. A soli- 
tary, poor, and unprotected stranger, he burst 
through the barriers which separate men of differ- 
ent tongues and races : and with an ease little less 
than miraculous, established for himself the means 
of interchanging thoughts with the people of the 
East. They may have ill-gathered his meaning, 
but by some mysterious force of sympathy they 
soon caught his ardor. Idol temples fell by the 
hands of their former worshippers. Christian 
churches rose at his bidding ; and the kingdom of 
Travancore was agitated with new ideas and un- 
wonted controversies. The Brahmins argued — as 
the Church by law established has not seldom ar- 
gued — with fire and sword, and the interdict of 
earth and water, to the enemies of their repose. 

On the Coromandel coast, near the city of Mel- 
iapor, might be seen in those times the oratory and 



306* TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

the tomb of St. Thomas, the first teacher of Chris- 
tianity in India. It was in a cool and sequestered 
grotto that the apostle had been wont to pray ; 
and there yet appeared on the living rock, in bold 
relief, the cross at which he knelt, with a crystal 
fountain of medicinal waters gushing from the 
base of it. On the neighboring height, a church 
with a marble altar, stained, after the lapse of 
fifteen centuries, with the blood of the martyr, 
ascertained the sacred spot at which his bones had 
been committed to the dust. To this venerable 
shrine Xavier retired, to learn the will of Heaven 
concerning him. He maintained, on this occasion, 
for seven successive days an unbroken fast and 
silence — no unfit preparation for his approaching 
conflicts. 

Thirty years before the arrival of Xavier, Malac- 
ca had been conquered by Alphonso Albuquerque. 
It was a place abandoned to every form of sensual 
and enervating indulgence. Through her crowded 
streets a strange and solemn visitor passed along, 
pealing his faithful bell, and earnestly imploring 
the prayers of the faithful for that guilty people- 
Curiosity and alarm soon gave way to ridicule ; 
but Xavier' s panoply was complete. The messen- 
ger of divine wrath judged this an unfit occasion 
for courting aversion or contempt. He became the 



THE TEUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 307 

gayest of the gay, and, in address at least, the 
very model of an accomplished cavalier. Foiled 
at their own weapons, his dissolute countrymen 
acknowledged the irresistible authority of a self- 
devotion so awful, relieved and embellished as it was 
by every social grace. Thus the work of reforma- 
tion prospered, or seemed to prosper. Altars rose 
in the open streets, the confessional was thronged 
by penitents, translations of devout books were 
multiplied ; and the saint, foremost in every toil, 
applied himself with all the activity of his spirit 
to study the structure and the graceful pronuncia- 
tion of the Malayar tongue. But the plague was 
not thus to be stayed. A relapse into all their 
former habits filled up the measure of their crimes. 
With prophetic voice Xavier announced the im- 
pending chastisements of Heaven ; and shaking off 
from his feet the dust of the obdurate city, pur- 
sued his indefatigable way to Amboyna. 

That island, then a part of the vast dominions 
of Portugal in the East, had scarcely witnessed the 
commencement of Xavier' s exertions, when a fleet 
of Spanish vessels appeared in hostile array on the 
shores. They were invaders, and even corsairs ; 
for their expedition had been disavowed by Charles 
V. Pestilence, however, was raging among them ; 
and Xavier was equally ready to hazard his life in 



308 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

the cause of Portugal, or in the service of her 
afflicted enemies. Day and night he lived in the 
infected ships, soothing every spiritual distress, 
and exerting all the magical influence of his name 
to procure for the sick whatever might contribute 
to their recovery or soothe their pains. The coals 
of fire thus heaped on the heads of the pirates, 
melted hearts otherwise steeled to pity ; and to 
Xavier belonged the rare, perhaps the unrivalled, 
glory of repelling an invasion by no weapons but 
those of self-denial and love. 

But glory, the praise of men, or their gratitude, 
what were these to him ? As the Spaniards retired 
peacefully from Amboyna, he, too, quitted the half- 
adoring multitude, whom he had rescued from the 
horrors of a pirate's war, and spurning all the 
timid councils which would have stayed his course, 
proceeded, as the herald of good tidings, to the 
half barbarous islands of the neighboring Archi- 
pelago. " If those lands," such was his indignant 
exclamation, "had scented woods and mines of 
gold, Christians would find courage to go there ; 
nor would all the perils of the world prevent them. 
They are dastardly and alarmed, because there is 
nothing to be gained there but the souls of men, 
and shall love be less hardy and less generous than 
avarice I They will destroy me, you say, by poison. 



THE TEUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 309 

It is an honor to wliicli such a sinner as I am may 
not aspire ; but this I dare to say, that whatever 
form of torture or of death awaits me, I am ready 
to suffer it ten thousand times for the salvation of 
a single soul." Nor was this the language of a 
man insensible to the sorrows of life, or really un- 
affected by the dangers he had to incur. " Believe 
me, my beloved brethren " (we quote from a letter 
written by him at this time to the Society at Rome), 
" it is in general easy to understand the evangel- 
ical maxim, that he who will lose his life shall 
find it. But when the moment of action has come, 
and when the sacrifice of life for God is to be really 
made, oh, then, clear as at other times the meaning 
is, it becomes deeply obscure ! so dark, indeed, 
that he alone can comprehend it, to whom, in His 
mercy, God himself interprets it. Then it is we 
know how weak and frail we are." 

Weak and frail he may have been ; but from the 
days of St. Paul to our own, the annals of man- 
kind exhibit no higher example of a soul borne on- 
ward so triumphantly through distress and danger, 
in all their most appalling aspects. He battled 
with hunger, and thirst, and nakedness, and assas- 
sination, and pursued his mission of love, with 
even increasing ardor, amidst the wildest war of 
the contending elements. At the island of Moro 



310 TEIBUTES OF PEOTESTA^T WEITEES TO 

(one of the group of the Moluccas) he took his 
stand at the foot of a volcano ; and as the pillar of 
fire threw up its wreaths to heaven, and the earth 
tottered beneath him, and the firmament was rent 
by falling rocks and peals of unintermitting thun- 
der, he pointed to the fierce lightnings, and the 
river of molten lava, and called on the agitated 
crowd which clung to him for safety, to repent, 
and to obey the truth. Eepairing for the celebra- 
tion of Mass to some edifice which he had conse- 
crated for the purpose, an earthquake shook the 
building to its base. The terrified worshippers fled ; 
but Xavier standing in meek composure before the 
rocking altar, deliberately completed that mysteri- 
ous Sacrifice. 

The history of Xavier now reaches an unwel- 
come pause. He pined for solitude and silence. 
He had been too long in constant intercourse with 
man, and found that, however high and holy may 
be the ends for which social life is cultivated, the 
habit, if unbroken, will impair that inward sense 
through which alone the soul can gather any true 
intimations of her nature and her destiny. He 
retired to commune with himself in a seclusion 
where the works of God alone were to be seen, and 
where no voices could be heard but those which, 
in each varying cadence, raise an unconscious 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 311 

anthem of praise and adoration to tlieir Creator. 
There for a while reposing from labors such as few 
or any other of the sons of men have undergone, 
he consumed days and weeks in meditating pros- 
pects beyond the reach of any vision unenlarged by 
the habitual exercise of beneficence and piety. 

Scarcely four years had elapsed from the first 
discovery of Japan by the Portuguese, when 
Xavier, attended by Auger and his two servants, 
sailed from Goa to convert the islanders to the 
Christian faith. Much good advice had been, as 
usual, wasted on him by his friends. To Loyola 
alone he confided the secret of his confidence. " I 
can not express to you " (such are his words) " the 
joy with which I undertake this long voyage ; for 
it is full of extreme perils, and we consider a fleet 
sailing to Japan as eminently prosperous in which 
one ship out of four is saved. Though the risk 
far exceeds any which I have hitherto encounter- 
ed, I shall not decline it." Xavier left behind him 
a code of instructions for his brother missionaries, 
illuminated in almost every page by that profound 
sagacity which results from the union of extensive 
knowledge with acute observation, mellowed by 
the intuitive wisdom of a compassionate and lowly 
heart. The science of self-conquest, with a view 
to conquer the stubborn will of others, the act of 



312 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

winning admission for painful truth, and the 
duties of fidelity and reverence in the attempt to 
heal the diseases of the human spirit, were never 
taught by uninspired men with an eloquence more 
gentle, or an authority more impressive. A long- 
voyage, pursued through every disaster which the 
malevolence of man and demons could oppose to 
his progress (for he was constrained to sail in a 
piratical ship, with idols on her deck and whirl- 
winds in her path), brought him, in the year 1549, 
to Japan, there to practice his own lessons, and to 
give a new example of heroic perseverance. 

Carrying on his back his only property, the ves- 
sels requisite for performing the Sacrifice of the 
Mass, he advanced to Firando, at once the seaport 
and the capital of the kingdom of that name. 
Some Portuguese ships riding at anchor there, 
announced his arrival in all the f orms of nautical 
triumph — flags of every hue floating from the 
masts, seamen clustering on the yards, cannon 
roaring from beneath, and trumpets braying from 
above. Firando was agitated with debate and 
wonder ; all asked, but none could afford, an ex- 
planation of the homage rendered by the wealthy 
traders to the meanest of their countrymen. It 
was given by the humble pilgrim himself, sur- 
rounded in the royal presence by all the pomp 



THE TRUTH A]S T D BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 313 

which the Europeans could display in his honor. 
Great was the effect of these auxiliaries to the 
work of an evangelist ; and the modern, like the 
ancient Apostle, ready to become all things to all 
men, would no longer decline the abasement of as- 
suming for a moment the world's grandeur, when 
he found that such puerile acts might allure the 
children of the w r orld to listen to the voice of 
wisdom. At Meaco, then the seat of empire in 
Japan, the discovery might be reduced to practice 
with still more important success, and thitherwards 
his steps were promptly directed. 

At Amanguchi, the capital of J^agoto, he found 
the hearts of men hardened by sensuality ; and 
his exhortations to repentance were repaid by 
show r ers of stones and insults. They drove him 
forth half naked, with no provision but a bag of 
parched rice, and accompanied only by three of 
his converts, prepared to share his danger and his 
reproach. 

It was in the depth of winter ; dense forests, 

steep mountains, half-frozen streams, and wastes 

of untrodden snow r , lay in his path to Meaco. An 

entire month was consumed in traversing the 

wilderness, and the cruelty and scorn of man not 

seldom adding bitterness to the rigors of nature. 

On one occasion the wanderers were overtaken in 
14 



314 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

a thick jungle by a horseman bearing a heavy 
package. Xavier offered to carry the load, if the 
rider would requite the service by pointing out his 
way. The offer was accepted, but hour after hour 
the horse was urged on at such a pace, and so 
rapidly sped the panting missionary after him, 
that his tortured feet and excoriated body sank in 
seeming death under the protracted effort. In the 
extremity of his distress no repining word was 
ever heard to fall from him. He performed this 
dreadful pilgrimage in silent communion with Him 
for whom he rejoiced to suffer the loss of all 
things ; or spoke only to sustain the hope and 
courage of his associates. At length the walls of 
Meaco were seen, promising a repose not ungrate- 
ful even to his adamantine frame and fiery spirit. 
But repose was no more to visit him. He found 
the city in all the tumult and horror of a siege. It 
was impossible to gain attention to his doctrines 
amidst the din of arms. Chanting from the 
Psalmist — When Israel went out of Egypt and 
the house of Jacob from a strange people — the 
Saint again plunged into the desert, and retraced 
his steps to Amanguchi. 

Xavier describes the Japanese very much as a 
Roman might have depicted the Greeks in the age 
of Augustus, as at once intellectual and sensual 



THE TRUTH ATO) BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 315 

voluptuaries ; on the best possible terms with 
themselves, a good-humored but faithless race, 
equally acute and frivolous, talkative and disputa- 
tious — " their inquisitiveness," he says, " is incredi- 
ble, especially in their intercourse with strangers, 
for whom they have not the slightest respect, but 
make incessant sport of them." Surrounded at 
Amanguchi by a crowd of these babblers, he was 
plied with innumerable questions about the immor- 
tality of the soul, the movements of the planets, 
eclipses, the rainbow — sin, grace, paradise, and hell. 
He heard and answered. A single response solved 
all these problems. Astronomers, meteorologists, 
metaphysicians, and divines, all heard the same 
sound, but to each it came with a different and an 
appropriate meaning. So wrote from the very spot 
Father Anthony Quadros four years after the event, 
and so the fact may be read in the process of Xav- 
ier's canonization. 

In such controversies, and in doing the work of 
an evangelist in every other form, Xavier saw the 
third year of his residence at Japan gliding away, 
when tidings of perplexities at the mother church 
of Goa recalled him thither ; across seas so wide 
and stormy, that even the lust of gold hardly 
braved them in that infancy of the art of naviga- 
tion. As his ship drove before the monsoon, drag- 



316 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

ging after her a smaller bark which she had taken 
in tow, the connecting ropes were suddenly burst 
asunder, and in a few minutes the two vessels were 
no longer in sight. Thrice the snn rose and set on 
their dark course, the unchained elements roaring 
as in mad revelry around them, and the ocean seeth- 
ing like a caldron. Xavier's shipmates wept over 
the loss of friends and kindred in the foundered 
bark, and shuddered at their own approaching 
doom. He also wept ; but his were grateful tears. 
As the screaming whirlwind swept over the abyss, 
the present Deity was revealed to His faithful wor- 
shipper, shedding tranquillity, and peace, and joy 
over the sanctuary of a devout and confiding heart. 
" Mourn not, my friend," was his gay address to 
Edward de Gama, as he lamented the loss of his 
brother in the bark ; " before three days the daugh- 
ter will have returned to her mother." They were 
weary and anxious days ; but, as the third drew 
toward a close, a sail appeared on the horizon. 
Defying the adverse winds, she made straight 
toward them, and at last dropped alongside as 
calmly as the sea-bird ends her flight, and furls her 
ruffled plumage on the swelling surge. The cry of 
miracle burst from every lip ; and well it might. 
There was the lost bark, and not the bark only, but 
Xavier himself on board of her ! What though he 



THE TRUTH AXD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 317 

had ridden out the tempest in the larger vessel, the 
stay of their drooping spirits, he had at the same 
time been in the smaller ship, performing there 
also the same charitable office ; and yet, when the 
two hailed and spoke to each other, there was but 
one Francis Xavier, and he composedly standing by 
the side of Edward de Gama on the deck of the 
Holy Cross. Such was the name of the Commo- 
dore's vessel. For her services on this occasion, 
she obtained a sacred charter of immunity from 
risks of every kind ; and as long as her timbers 
continued sound, bounded merrily across seas in 
which no other craft could have lived. 

During this wondrous voyage her deck had often 
been paced in deep conference by Xavier and Jago 
de Pereyra, her commander. The great object 
which expanded the thoughts of Pereyra was the 
conversion of the Chinese empire. Before the 
Holy Cross had reached Goa, Pereyra had pledged 
his whole fortune, Xavier his influence and his life, 
to this gigantic adventure. In the spring of the 
following year, the apostle and Pereyra sailed from 
Goa in the Holy Cross, for the then unexplored 
coasts of China. As they passed Malacca, tidings 
came to Xavier of the tardy though true fulfilment 
of one of his predictions. Pestilence, the minister 
of Divine vengeance, was laying waste that stiff- 



318 TEIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

necked and luxurious people ; but the woe he had 
foretold he was the foremost to alleviate. Heed- 
less of his own safety, he raised the sick in his 
arms and bore them to the hospitals. He esteemed 
no time, or place, or office too sacred to give way 
to this work of mercy. Ships, colleges, churches, 
all at his bidding became so many lazarettos. 
Night and day he lived among the diseased and the 
dying, or quitted them only to beg food or medi- 
cine, from door to door, for their relief. For the 
moment even China was forgotten ; nor would he 
advance a step though it were to convert to Chris- 
tianity a third part of the human race, so long as 
one victim of the plague demanded his sympathy, 
or could be directed to an ever-present and still 
more compassionate Comforter. The career of 
Xavier was now drawing to a close ; and with him 
the time was ripe for practicing those deeper les- 
sons of wisdom which he had imbibed from his 
long and arduous discipline. 

Again the Holy Cross prepared for sea ; and 
the apostle of the Indies, followed by a grateful 
and admiring people, passed through the gates of 
Malacca to the beach. Falling on his face to 
the earth, he poured forth a passionate though 
silent prayer. His body heaved and shook with 
the throes of that agonizing hour. What might 



THE TRUTH AKD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 319 

be the fearful portent none might divine, and none 
presumed to ask. A contagious terror passed 
from eye to eye, but every voice was hushed. It 
was as the calm preceding the first thunder peal 
which is to rend the firmament. Xavier arose, his 
countenance no longer beaming with its accustom- 
ed grace and tenderness, but glowing with a sacred 
indignation, like that of Isaiah when breathing 
forth his inspired menaces against the king of 
Babylon. Standing on a rock amidst the waters, 
he loosed his shoes from off his feet, smote them 
against each other with vehement action, and then 
casting them from him, as still tainted with the 
dust of that devoted city, he leaped barefooted 
into the bark, which bore him away forever from 
a place from which he had so long and vainly 
labored to avert her impending doom. 

She bore him, as he had projected, to the island 
of Sancian. It was a mere commercial factory ; 
and the merchants who passed the trading season 
there, vehemently opposed his design of penetrat- 
ing farther into China. True he had ventured 
into the forest, against the tigers which infested 
it, with no other weapon than a vase of holy 
water ; and the savage beasts, sprinkled with that 
sacred element, had forever fled the place : but the 
mandarins were fiercer still than they, and would 



320 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

avenge the preaching of the saint on the inmates of 
the factory. 

Long years had now passed away since the voice 
of Loyola had been heard on the banks of the 
Seine urging the solemn inquiry, " What shall it 
profit ? " But the words still rung on the ear of 
Xavier, and were still repeated, though in vain, to 
his worldly associates at Sancian. They sailed 
away with their cargoes, leaving behind them 
only the Holy Cross in charge of the officers of 
Alvaro, and depriving Xavier of all means of 
crossing the channel to Macao. They left him 
destitute of shelter and of food, but not of hope. 
He had heard that the King of Siam meditated 
an embassy to China for the following year ; 
and to Siam he resolved to return in Alvaro's 
vessel, to join himself, if possible, to the Siamese 
envoys, and so at length to force his way into the 
empire. 

But his earthly toils and projects were now to 
cease forever. The angel of death appeared with 
a summons, for which, since death first entered 
our world, no man was ever more triumphantly 
prepared. It found him on board the vessel on 
the point of departing for Siam. At his own re- 
quest he was removed to the shore, that he might 
meet his end with the greater composure. Stretch- 



THE TRUTH A1TO BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 321 

ed on the naked beach, with the cold blasts of a 
Chinese winter aggravating his pains, he con- 
tended alone with the agonies of the fever which 
wasted his vital power. It was a solitude and an 
agony for which the happiest of the sons of men 
might well have exchanged the dearest society 
and the purest of the joys of life. It was an 
agony in which his still uplifted crucifix remind- 
ed him of a far more awful woe endured for his 
deliverance ; and a solitude thronged by blessed 
ministers of peace and consolation, visible in all 
their bright and lovely aspects to the now un- 
clouded eye of faith ; and audible to the dying 
martyr through the yielding bars of his mortal 
prison-house, in strains of exulting joy till then 
unheard and unimagined. Tears burst from his 
fading eyes, tears of an emotion too big for utter- 
ance. In the cold collapse of death his features 
were for a few brief moments irradiated as with 
the first beams of approaching glory. He raised 
himself on his crucifix, and exclaiming, In te 
Domine, speravi — non confundar in ester num ! 
he bowed his head and died. 

Sir James Stephen, 
Essays on Ecclesiastical Biography. 
14* 



MISSIONARY CONTRAST. 



This great success of the Catholics in these 
islands, reminds us of the more glorious results 
attendant on the mission of the priests than on 
that of the Puritans in North America. While 
the former, through the benign influence of genu- 
ine religion, and a reasonable conformance to the 
outward life, simple habits, and natural instincts 
of the Indian, possessed themselves of the door of 
human nature, the heart, and by kindness, sym- 
pathy, persuasion, and rational appeal, passed 
through it to the inner seat of his convictions ; 
the cold, unbending, unpitying, and uncompromis- 
ing disciple of Puritanism, sought to attain the 
same end by dictatorial harangues on election, 
justification, and sanctification, unintelligible to 
themselves and incomprehensible to their hearers ; 
and by harsh decrees, fierce denunciations, and 
finally by the practical enforcement of death 
and damnation. The result of these two systems 
of proselytism are matters of record. The former, 
introduced by the French Franciscans, on the rocky 
shores of Maine, was subsequently borne thence 

(322) 



THE TRUTH AXD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 323 

along the great valley of tlie St. Lawrenc^and the 
lakes, even to that of the Father of Waters, by the 
Jesuits ; winning the confidence and love of the 
untamed savage, guiding him to the peaceful con- 
templation of truth, and along the path that leads 
to eternal life. While the latter wrote in blood 
the record of aboriginal repugnance, and of their 
own persecutions, oppression, and final extermina- 
tion of a race whom they professed to seek with 
the Gospel of Peace, but in fact destroyed with 
the weapons of war ; and when at a later day they 
seized the happier fields of Catholic missions along 
the St. Lawrence and the lakes, there too they 
blasted the fair face of a benignant Christianity, 
by the terrors of uncompromising heartlessness, 
intolerance, cruelty, and selfishness. As a New 
England historian has asked in regard to the con- 
trasted spirit of the missions of that day, equally 
applicable to the missions of which we have been 
speaking in the Hawaiian Islands — " Can we won- 
der that Rome succeeded and that Geneva failed ? 
Is it strange that the tawny pagan fled from the 
icy embrace of Puritanism, and took refuge in the 
arms of the priest and Jesuit 1 " 

H. Willis Baxley, 
West Coast of South and North America, and 
the Hawaiian Islands. 



HOSPITALS AND SISTERHOODS. 



It would take far too much, time were I to go 
over the history of the early ages of Christendom, 
and show you that women, associated under the 
ruling civil and ecclesiastical powers, were then 
officially, but voluntarily, employed in works of 
social good. That these women should have been 
early associated with the Church, and held their 
duties by ecclesiastical appointment, was natural 
and necessary, because all moral sway, and all 
moral influence, and all education, and every 
peaceful and elevating pursuit, belonged for many 
centuries to the ecclesiastical order only. The 
singular and beneficent power exercised by the re- 
ligious and charitable women in those times is re- 
marked by all writers. The whole of the early 
history of Christianity is full of examples. I will 
give you one which, on looking over these authori- 
ties, struck me vividly. 

Paula, a noble Roman lady, a lineal descendant 
of the Scipios and the Gracchi, is mentioned among 
the first Christian women remarkable for their 

^324) 



THE TEUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 325 

active benevolence. In the year 385 she quitted 
Rome, then a Pagan city ; with the remains of a 
large fortune, which had been expended in aiding 
and instructing a wretched and demoralized peo- 
ple, and accompanied by her daughter, she sailed 
for Palestine, and took up her residence in Beth- 
lehem of Judea. There, as the story relates, she 
assembled around her a community of women. In 
the old English translation of her life there is a 
picture of this charitable lady which I can not re- 
frain from quoting : " She was marvellous debonair, 
and piteous to them that were sick, and comforted 
them, and served them right humbly; and gave 
them largely to eat such as they asked ; but to 
herself she was hard in her sickness and scarce, 
for she refused to eat flesh how well she gave it to 
others, and also to drink wine. She was oft by 
them that were sick, and she laid the pillows aright 
and in point ; and she rubbed their feet, and boiled 
water to wash them ; and it seemed to her that the 
less she did to the sick in service, so much the 
less service did she to God, and deserved the less 
mercy ; therefore she was to them piteous and 
nothing to herself." 

This picture, drawn fifteen hundred years ago, 
so quaintly graphic, and yet so touching in its 
simplicity, will, perhaps, bring before the mind's 



326 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

eye of those who listen to me, scenes of the same 
kind, where female ministry has been called upon 
to do like offices of mercy ; to wash the wounds 
and smooth the couch, and " lay the pillows aright," 
of the maimed, the war-broken, the plague-stricken 
soldier. But we must for a while turn back to the 
past. It is in the seventh century that we find the 
communities of charitable women first mentioned 
under a particular appellation. We read in history 
that when Landry, Bishop of Paris, about the year 
650, founded an hospital, since known as the Hotel 
Dieu, as a general refuge for disease and misery, 
he placed it under the direction of the Hospital- 
teres, or nursing-sisters of the time, — women whose 
services are understood to have been voluntary, 
and undertaken from motives of piety. Innocent 
IV., who would not allow of any outlaying religi- 
ous societies, collected and united those hospital- 
sisters under the rule of the Augustine Order, 
making them amenable to the government and 
discipline of the Church. 

The novitiate or training of a Sosur Hospitaliere 
was of twelve years' duration, after which she was 
allowed to make her profession. At that time, and 
even earlier, we find many hospitals expressly 
founded for the reception of the sick pilgrims and 
wounded soldiers returning from the East, and 






THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 327 

bringing with them strange and hitherto unknown 
forms of disease and suffering. Some of the 
largest hospitals in France and the Netherlands 
originated in this purpose, and were all served by 
the Hospitalieres ; and to this day the Hotel Dieu, 
with its one thousand beds, and the hospital of 
St. Louis, with its seven hundred beds, and that of 
La Pitie, with its six hundred beds, are served by 
the same sisterhood under whose care they were 
originally placed centuries ago. 

For about five hundred years the institution of the 
Dames or Sceur Hospitalieres remained the only 
one of its kind. During this period it had greatly 
increased its numbers, and extended all through 
Western Christendom. 

The thirteenth century saw the rise of another 
community of compassionate women. These were 
the Sceurs Grises, or Grey Sisters, so called at first 
from the original color of their dress. Their origin 
was this : the Franciscans (and other regular or- 
ders) admitted into their community a third or secu- 
lar class, who did not seclude themselves in cloisters, 
who took no vows of celibacy, but were simply 
bound to submit to certain rules and regulations, 
and united together in works of charity, devoting 
themselves to visiting the sick in the hospitals or 
at their own homes, and doing good wherever and 
whenever called upon. 



328 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

Women of all classes were enrolled in this sister- 
hood, — queens, princesses, ladies of rank, wives of 
burghers, as well as poor widows and maidens. 
The higher class and the married women occasion- 
ally served ; the widows and unmarried devoted 
themselves almost entirely to the duties of nursing 
the sick in the hospitals. 

Gradually it became a vocation apart, and a no- 
vitiate or training of from one to three years was 
required to fit them for their profession. 

When at Florence, in 1857, I found the noble 
hospital of S. Maria-Nuova, the Hotel Dieu of 
Florence, served by this Franciscan sisterhood, to 
whom it really belonged, though all responsibility 
with regard to the management had long been 
taken from them and placed in the hands of gov- 
ernment officials. In former times there were at 
least thirty-three hospitals, each of the guilds or 
companies having its own, supported by its own 
members and managed by religious sisterhoods 
and confraternities. All these small hospitals be- 
came gradually merged in the large one ; this ren- 
dered the whole establishment more convenient as 
a medical school, and as an assemblage of profes- 
sorships, but the patients probably suffered from 
being crowded under one roof. At the time I vis- 
ited it there were nearly 3,000 sick. 



THE TKUTH AJTO BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 329 

The Beguines, so well known in Flanders, seem 
to have existed as hospital-sisters in the seventh 
century, and to have been settled in communities 
at Liege and elsewhere in 1173. They wear a par- 
ticular dress (the black gown and white hood), but 
take no vows, and may leave the community at any 
time — a thing which rarely happens. 

No one who has travelled in Flanders, visited 
Ghent, Bruges, Brussels, or indeed any of the 
Netherlandish towns, will forget the singular ap- 
pearance of these, sometimes young and handsome, 
but always staid, respectable-looking women, walk- 
ing about protected by the universal reverence of 
the people, and busied in their compassionate vo- 
cation. 

In their few moments of leisure, the Beguines 
are allowed to make lace and cultivate flowers, and 
they act under a strict self-constituted government, 
maintained by strict traditional forms. All the 
hospitals in Flanders are served by these Beguines. 
They have, besides, attached to their own houses, 
hospitals of their own, with a medical staff of phy- 
sicians and surgeons, under whose directions, in all 
cases of difficulty, the sisters administer relief ; and 
of the humility, skill, and tenderness with which 
they do administer it, I have heard but one opin- 



330 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WKITEKS TO 

ion ;* nor did I ever meet with any one who had 
travelled in those countries who did not wish that 
some system of the kind could be transferred to 
England. 

In Germany, the Sisters of Charity are styled 
" Sisters of St. Elizabeth/' in honor of Elizabeth of 
Hungary. At Vienna, a few years ago, I had the 
opportunity, through the kindness of a distin- 
guished physician, of visiting one of the houses of 
these Elizabethan Sisters. There was an hospital 
attached to it of fifty beds, which had received 
about 450 patients during the year. Xothing could 
exceed the propriety, order, and cleanliness of the 
whole establishment. On the ground-floor was an 
extensive " Pharmacy ' a sort of apothecaries' hall ; 
part of this was divided off by a long table or coun- 
ter, and surrounded by shelves filled with drugs, 
much like an apothecary's shop; behind the counter 
two Sisters, with their sleeves tucked up, were 
busy weighing and compounding medicines, with 



*A recent traveUer mentions their hospital of St. John 
at Bruges as one of the best conducted he had ever met with. 
' * Its attendants, in their religious costume and with then 
nuns' head-dresses, moving about with a quiet tenderness 
and solicitude, worthy then name as ' Sisters of Charity ' ; 
and the lofty wards, with the white linen of the beds, pre- 
sent in every particular an example of the most accurate 
neatness and cleanliness.' ' 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 331 

such a delicacy, neatness, and exactitude as women 
use in these matters. A physician and surgeon, 
appointed by the Government, visited this hospital, 
and were resorted to in cases of difficulty or where 
operations were necessary. Howard, in describing 
the principal hospital at Lyons, which he praises 
for its excellent and kindly management, as being 
" so clean and so quiet," tells us that at that time 
(1776) he found it attended by nine physicians and 
surgeons, and managed by twelve Sisters of Charity. 
" There were Sisters who made up as well as ad- 
ministered all the medicines prescribed ; for which 
purpose there was a laboratory and an apothecary's 
shop, the neatest and most elegantly fitted up that 
can be conceived." * 

Louise de Marillac — better known as Madame 
Legras, — when left a widow in the prime of life, 
could find no better refuge from sorrow than in 
active duties, undertaken "for the love of God." 
The famous Vincent de Paul, who had been occu- 
pied for years with a scheme to reform thoroughly 
the prisons and hospitals of France, found in 



* Howard also mentions the hospitals belonging* to the or- 
der of Charity, in all countries, as the best regulated, the clean- 
est, the most tenderly served and managed of all he had met 
with. He mentions the introduction of iron bedsteads into 
one of their hospitals as something new to him. — (In 1776). 



332 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

Madame Legras a most efficient coadjutor. Tliey 
constituted on an improved basis the order 
Hospitalieres, since known as the Sisterhood of 
Charity. 

Within twenty years this new community had 
two hundred houses and hospitals ; in a few years 
more it had spread over all Europe. Madame 
Legras died in 1660. Already, before her death, 
the women prepared and trained under her in- 
structions, and under the direction of Yincent de 
Paul, had proved their efficiency, on some extra- 
ordinary occasions. In the campaigns of 1652 and 
1658, they were sent to the field of battle, in groups 
of two and four together, to assist the wounded. 
They were invited into the besieged towns to take 
charge of the military hospitals. 

They were particularly conspicuous at the siege 
of Dunkirk, and in the military hospitals estab- 
lished by Anne of Austria, at Fontaine bleau. 
"When the plague broke out in Poland, in 1672, 
they were sent to direct the hospitals at Warsaw, 
and to take charge of the orphans, and were thus 
introduced into Eastern Europe ; and, stranger 
than all ! they were even sent to the prison-in- 
firmaries, where the branded forgats, and con- 
demned felons lay cursing and writhing in their 
fetters. 



THE TKTTTH A]S T D BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 333 

It is not, I believe, generally known in this 
country tliat the same experiment has been lately 
tried, and with success, in the prisons of Pied- 
mont, where the Sisters were first employed to 
nurse the wretched criminals perishing with dis- 
ease and despair ; afterward, and during con- 
valescence, to read to them, to teach them to read 
and to knit, and in some cases to sing. The 
hardest of these wretches had probably some re- 
membrance of a mother's voice and look thus 
recalled, or he could at least feel gratitude for 
sympathy from purer, higher nature. As an ele- 
ment of reformation, I might almost say of regen- 
eration, this use of the feminine influence has been 
found efficient where all other means had failed. 

At the commencement of the French Revolu- 
tion the Sisterhood of Charity had 426 houses in 
France, and many more in other countries ; the 
whole number of women then actively employed 
was about 6,000. During the Reign of Terror, the 
Superior (Madame Duleau), who had become a 
Sister of Charity at the age of nineteen, and was 
now sixty, endeavored to keep the society together, 
although suppressed by the Government, and in 
the midst of the horrors of that time, it appears that 
the feeling of the people protected these women 
from injury. As soon as the Consular govern- 



334 TKIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

ment was established, the indispensable Sisterhood 
was recalled by a decree of the Minister of the 
Interior. 

I can not resist giving you a few passages from 
the preamble to this edict — certainly very striking 
and significant — as I find it quoted in a little book 
now before me. 

It begins thus : 

" Seeing that the services rendered to the sick 
can only be properly administered by those whose 
vocation it is, and who do it in the spirit of love ; 

" Seeing, farther, that among the hospitals of 
the Republic, those are in all ways best served 
wherein the female attendants have adhered to 
the noble example of their predecessors, whose only 
object was to practice a boundless love and charity ; 

" Seeing that the members still existing of this 
society are now growing old, so that there is rea- 
son to fear that an order which is a glory to the 
country may shortly become extinct ; 

" It is decreed that the Citoyenne Duleau, for- 
merly Superior of the Sisters of Charity, is author- 
ized to educate girls for the care of the hospitals," 
etc. 

I confess I should like to see an Act of our Par- 
liament beginning with such a preamble ! 

In all the Sisters of Charity I have known, I 



THE TRUTH AXD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 335 

have found a mingled bravery and tenderness, if 
not by nature, by habit ; and a certain tranquil 
self-complacency, arising not from self-applause, 
but out of the very abnegation of self, which had 
been adopted as the rule of life. 

I have now given you a rapid and most imper- 
fect sketch of what has been done by an organized 
system of charity in the Roman Catholic Church. 

Mrs. Jameson, 
Sisters of Charity. 






THE PROFESSION OF A XUX. 



The places allotted to us as being strangers, whom 
the Italians never fail to distinguish bv the most 
courteous manners, were such as not only to enable 
us to view the whole ceremony, but to contemplate 
the features and expression of this interesting 
being. 

All awaited the moment of her entrance with 
anxious impatience, and on her appearance every 
eye was directed toward her with an expression of 
the deepest interest. Splendidly adorned, and at- 
tended by a female Mend of high rank, she slowly 
advanced to the seat assigned her near the altar. 
Her fine form rose above the middle stature, a gen- 
tle bend marked her contour ; her deep blue eyes 5 
which were occasionally in pious awe raised to 
Heaven, and her long, dark eyelashes, gave life to 
a beautiful countenance. 

She was the only child of doating parents ; but 
while their afflicted spirit found vent in tears 
which coursed over cheeks chilled by sorrow, they 
yet beheld their treasure about to be separated 

(336 ) 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 337 

from them, with that resignation which piety in- 
spires, while yielding to a sacrifice made to Heaven. 
The ceremony now began, the priest pronounced a 
discourse, and the other observances proceeded in 
the usual order. 

At length the solemn moment approached which 
was to bind her vows to Heaven. She arose and 
stood for a few moments before the altar ; when 
suddenly, yet with noiseless action, she sank ex- 
tended on the marble floor. A momentary pause 
ensued : when the deep silence was broken, by the 
low tones of the organ, accompanied by soft and 
beautiful female voices. The sound gently swelled 
in the air, and as the harmonious volume became 
more powerful, the deep church-bell at intervals 
sounded with a loud clamor, exciting a mixed feel- 
ing of agitation and grandeur. 

This solemn music continued long, and still fell 
mournfully on the ear ; and yet seraphic as in 
softened tones, and as it were receding in the dis- 
tance, it gently sank into silence. The young 
novice was then raised, and advancing toward the 
priest, she bent down, kneeling at his feet, while 
he cut a lock of her hair, as a type of the ceremony 
that was to deprive her of this, to her no longer 
valued, ornament. Her attendant then despoiled her 

of the rich jewels with which she was adorned ; 
15 



338 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

her splendid upper vesture was thrown off, and re- 
placed by a monastic garment; her long tresses 
bound up, her temples covered with fair linen ; the 
white crown, emblem of innocence, fixed on her 
head, and the crucifix placed in her hands. 

Then kneeling low once more before the altar, 
she uttered her last vow to Heaven ; at which mo- 
ment the organ and choristers burst forth in loud 
shouts of triumph. 

The ceremony finished, she arose and attended 
in procession, proceeding toward a wide gate, di- 
viding the church from the convent, which, open- 
ing wide, displayed a small chapel beautifully 
illuminated ; a thousand lights shed a brilliant 
lustre, whose lengthened gleams seemed sinking 
into darkness, as they shot through the long per- 
spective of the distant aisle. In the foreground, 
in a blazing focus of light, stood an altar, from 
which, in a divided line, the nuns of the com- 
munity were seen, each holding a large burning 
wax taper. They seemed to be disposed in order 
of seniority, and the two youngest were still 
adorned with the white crown, as being in the first 
week of their novitiate. 

Both seemed in early youth, and their cheeks, 
yet unpaled by vigils, bloomed with a brightened 
tint, while their eyes sparkled, and a smile seemed 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 339 

struggling with the solemnity of the moment, in ex- 
pression of their innocent delight in beholding the 
approach of her who had that day offered up her 
vows, and become one of the community. 

The others stood in succession, with looks more 
subdued, pale, mild, collected, the head gently 
bending toward the earth in contemplation. The 
procession stopped at the threshold of the church, 
when the young nun was received and embraced 
by the Lady- Superior, who, leading her onward, 
was followed in procession by the nuns, each bear- 
ing her lighted torch. 

John Bell, 
Observations on Italy. 



DIVOKCE, 



The civil-contract theory of marriage is strictly 
in place in any system which banishes God from 
the world and human life. It is in order in ra- 
tionalized communities, in societies which have 
ceased to be Christian. Some of us are reproached 
for not being in accord with the spirit of the age ; 
how can we be, if the spirit of the age and its 
movements are practically atheistic? To induce 
men to ignore God's word and reject His law, to 
show men how to do without God, is the avowed 
aim of the advanced thinker of the day ; and the 
view of marriage, as a civil contract only, falls in 
with the rest of his programme. 

Unfortunately we can not stop at that. The 
truth must be told, however painfully it may strike 
the unaccustomed ear. This is not only a sign of 
an infidel society, it is also an outgrowth from the 
principles which form the evil side of Protestant- 
ism. There can be no doubt as to the genesis of 
this abomination. I quote the language of the 
Bishop of Maine : " Laxity of opinion and teach- 
ings on the sacredness of the marriage bond and on 

(340) 



THE TRUTH A1TO BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 341 

the question of divorce originated among the Prot- 
estants of Continental Europe in the sixteenth 
century. It soon began to appear in the legislation 
of Protestant States on that continent, and nearly 
at the same time to affect the laws of New England. 
And from that time to the present it has proceeded 
from one degree to another in this country until, 
especially in New England and in States most direct- 
ly affected by New England opinions and usages, the 
Christian conception of the nature and obligations 
of the marriage bond finds scarcely any recognition 
in legislation, or, as must thence be inferred, in the 
prevailing sentiment of the community." * This is 
a heresy, born and bred of free thought as applied 
to religion ; it is the outcome of the habit of inter- 
preting the Bible according to man's private judg- 
ment, rejecting ecclesiastical authority and Catholic 

tradition. 

Eev. Morgan Dix, 

Lectures on the Galling of a Christian Woman. 



* It is hardly necessary to remind the reader of the obse- 
quiousness of Cranmer ; the matter of the divorces of 
Henry VIII. , of the conduct of Luther and Melancthon in 
the case of the Landgrave of Hesse ; of the abortive ' ' Refor- 
matio Legum Ecclesiasticarum " in the reign of Edward VI., 
and of John Milton's tractate addressed to Parliament on tha 
" Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce." 



THE SOMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH. 



The history of that Church joins together the 
two great ages of human civilization. No other 
institution is left standing which carries the mind 
back to the times when the smoke of sacrifice rose 
from the Pantheon, and when camelopards and 
tigers bounded in the Flavian amphitheatre. The 
proudest royal-houses are but of yesterday, when 
compared with the line of the Supreme Pontiffs. 
That line we trace back in an unbroken series, from 
the Pope who crowned Napoleon in the nineteenth 
century, to the Pope who crowned Pepin in the 
eighth ; and far beyond the time of Pepin the 
august dynasty extends. The republic of Venice 
came next in antiquity. But the republic of Venice 
was modern when compared with the Papacy, and 
the republic of Venice is gone, and the Papacy re- 
mains. The Papacy remains, not in decay, not a 
mere antique, but full of life and youthful vigor. 
The Catholic Church is still sending forth to the 
farthest ends of the world missionaries as zealous 
as those who landed in Kent with Augustine, and 

(342) 



THE TKUTH A1STD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 343 

still confronting hostile kings with the same spirit 
with which she confronted Attila. The number of 
her children is greater than in any former age. 
Her acquisitions in the New World have more than 
compensated for what she has lost in the Old. 
Her spiritual ascendency extends over the vast 
countries which lie between the plains of the Mis- 
souri and Cape Horn, countries which, a century 
hence, may not improbably contain a population 
as large as that which now inhabits Europe. The 
members of her communion are certainly not fewer 
than one hundred and fifty millions,* and it will 
be difficult to show that all other Christian sects 
united amount to a hundred and twenty millions. 
Nor do we see any sign which indicates that the 
term of her long dominion is approaching. She 
saw the commencement of all the governments and 
of all the ecclesiastical establishments that now 
exist in the world ; and we feel no assurance that 
she is not destined to see the end of them all. She 
was great and respected before the Saxon had set 
foot on Britain, before the Frank had passed the 
Rhine, when Grecian eloquence still flourished at 
Antioch, when idols were still worshipped in the 
temple of Mecca. And she may still exist in un- 



* Estimated now at two hundred and twenty -five millions. 



344 TRIBUTES OF PROTEST ANT WRITERS. 

diminished vigor when some traveller from New 
Zealand shall, in the midst of a vast solitude, take 
his stand on a broken arch of London Bridge to 
sketch the ruins of St. Paul's. 

We often hear it said, that the world is con- 
stantly becoming more and more enlightened ; and 
that this enlightening must be favorable to Protest- 
antism, and unfavorable to Catholicism. We wish 
that we could think so. But we see great reason 
to doubt whether this be a well-founded expecta- 
tion. We see that during the last two hundred 
and fifty years, the human mind has been in the 
highest degree active — that it has made great ad- 
vances in every branch of natural philosophy — 
that it has produced innumerable inventions tend- 
ing to promote the convenience of life — that medi- 
cine, surgery, chemistry, engineering, have been 
very greatly improved — that government, police, 
and law have been improved, though not quite to 
the same extent. Yet we see that during these 
two hundred and fifty years, Protestantism has 
made no conquests worth speaking of. Nay, we 
believe that as far as there has been a change, that 
change has been in favor of the Church of Eome. 

Lord Macaulay, 
Essays, Critical and Miscellaneous. 



THE POPULATION, WEALTH, POWER, 
FREEDOM, AND PLENTY OF ENG- 
LAND AND IRELAND BEFORE THE 
REFORMATION. 



Ke^shstgtok, 31st March, 1826, 
My Fkieistds : — This Letter is to conclude my 
task, which task was to make good this assertion, 
that the event called the " Reformation " had im- 
poverished and degraded the main body of the 
people of England and Ireland. In paragraph 4, 
I told yon, that a fair and honest inquiry would 
teach us, that the word " Reformation " had, in this 
case, been misapplied ; that there was a change, 
but a change greatly for the worse ; that the thing, 
called the Reformation, was engendered in beastly 
lust, brought forth in hypocrisy and perfidy, and 
cherished and fed by plunder, devastation, and by 
rivers of innocent English and Irish blood ; and 
that, as to its more remote consequences, they are, 
some of them, now before us, in that misery, that 
beggary, that nakedness, that hunger, that ever- 
lasting wrangling and spite, which now stare us in 
15* (345) 



346 "TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

the face and stun our ears at every turn, and which 
the " Reformation " has given us in exchange for 
the ease and happiness and harmony and Christian 
charity, enjoyed so abundantly, and for so many 
ages, by our Catholic forefathers. 

All this has been amply proved in the fifteen 
foregoing Letters, except that I have not yet 
shown, in detail, how our Catholic forefathers 
lived, what sort and what quantity of food and 
raiment they had, compared with those which we 
have. This I am now about to do. I have made 
good my charge of beastly lust, hypocrisy, perfidy, 
plunder, devastation, and bloodshed ; the charge 
of misery, of beggary, of nakedness, and of hunger, 
remains to be fully established. 

But I choose to be better rather than worse than 
my word ; I did not pledge myself to prove any- 
thing as to the population, wealth, power, and 
freedom of the nation ; but I will now show not 
only that the people were better off, but better fed 
and clad, before the "Reformation" than they 
ever have been since ; but, that the nation was 
more populous, wealthy, powerful, and free before, 
than it ever has been since that event. Read 
modern romancers, called historians, every one of 
whom has written for place or pension ; read the 
statements about the superiority of the present 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 347 

over former times ; about our prodigious increase 
in population, wealth, power, and, above all things, 
our superior freedom ; read the monstrous lies of 
Hume, who (vol. 5, p. 502) unblushingly asserts 
" that one good county of England is now capable 
of making a greater effort than the whole kingdom 
was in the reign of Henry V., when to maintain 
the garrison of the small town of Calais required 
more than a third of the ordinary revenues"; this 
is the way in which every Scotchman reasons. He 
always estimates the wealth of a nation by the 
money the government squeezes out of it. He for- 
gets that " a poor government makes a rich peo- 
ple." According to this criterion of Hume, Amer- 
ica must now be a wretchedly poor country. This 
same Henry V. could conquer, really conquer, 
France, ancl that, too, without beggaring England 
by hiring a million of Prussians, Austrians, Cos- 
sacks, and all sorts of hirelings. But writers have, 
for ages, been so dependent on the government 
and the aristocracy, and the people have read and 
believed so much of what they have said, and 
especially in praise of the " Reformation," and its 
effects, that it is no wonder that they should think 
that, in Catholic times, England was a poor, beg- 
garly spot, having a very few people on it ; and 
that the " Reformation," and the House of Bruns- 



348 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

wick and the Whigs, have given us all we possess 

of wealth, of power, of freedom, and have almost 
created ns, or, at least, if not actually begotten us, 
caused nine-tenths of us to be born. These are all 
monstrous lies ; but they have succeeded for ages. 
Few men dared to attempt to refute them ; and. if 
any one made the attempt, he obtained few hearers, 
and ruin, in some shape or other, was pretty sure 
to be the reward of his virtuous efforts. Xow, 
however, when we are smarting under the lash of 
calamity ; now, when every one says, that no state 
of things ever was so bad as this ; now men may 
listen to the truth, and, therefore, I will lay it be- 
fore them. 

PoPULOUSNESS is a thing not to be proved by 
positive facts, because there are no records of the 
numbers of the people in former times ; and be- 
cause those which we have in our own day are 
notoriously false ; if they be not, the English 
nation has added a third to its population during 
the last twenty years ! In short, our modern 
records I have, over and over again, proved to be 
false, particularly in my Register, No. 2, of Vol- 
ume 46. That England was more populous in 
Catholic times than it is now we must believe, 
when we know, that in the three first Protestant 
reigns, thousands of parish churches were pulled 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 319 

down, that parishes were united, in more than two 
thousand instances, and when we know from the 
returns now before Parliament, that, out of 11,761 
parishes, in England and Wales, there are upwards 
of a thousand which do not contain a hundred 
persons each, men, women, and children. Then 
again, the size of the churches. They were man- 
ifestly built, in general, to hold three, four, five, or 
ten times the number of their present parishioners, 
including all the sectarians. What should men 
have built such large churches for i We are 
told of their ;% piety and zeal "; yes, but there must 
have been men to raise the buildings. The Lord 
might favor the work ; but there must have been 
hands as well as prayers. And, what motive could 
there have been for putting together such large 
quantities of stone and mortar, and to make walls 
four feet thick, and towers and steeple, if there 
had not been people to fill the buildings i And 
how could the labor have been performed i There 
must have been men to perform the labor ; and, 
can any one believe, that this labor would have 
been performed, if there had not been a necessity 
for it ! We now see large and most costly ancient 
churches, and these in great numbers too, with 
only a few mud-huts to hold the thirty or a hun- 
dred of parishioners. Our forefathers built for- 



350 TEIBUTES OF PROTESTAXT WRITERS TO 

ever, little thinking of the devastation that we 
were to behold ! x\"ext come the lands, which they 
cultivated, and which we do not, amounting to 
millions of acres. This any one may verify, who 
will go into Sussex, Hampshire, Dorsetshire, Devon- 
shire, and Cornwall. They grew corn on the sides 
of hills, which we now never attempt to stir. They 
made the hill into the form of steps of a stairs, in 
order to plough and sow the flat parts. These 
flats, or steps, still remain, and are, in some cases, 
still cultivated ; but, in nine cases out of ten, they 
are not. Why should they have performed this 
prodigious labor, if they had not had mouths to 
eat the corn ? And how could they have perform- 
ed such labor without numerous hands ? On the 
high lands of Hampshire and Dorsetshire, there 
are spots of a thousand acres together, which still 
bear the ineffaceable marks of the plough, and 
which now never feel that implement. The 
modern writings on the subject of ancient popula- 
tion are mere romances ; or they have been put 
forth with a view of paying court to the gov- 
ernment of the day. George Chalmers, a place- 
man, a pensioner, and a Scotchman, has been one 
of the most conspicuous in this species of decep- 
tion. He, in what he calls an u Estimate," states 
the population of England and Wales, in 1377, 



THE TRUTH Al^D BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 351 

at 2,092,978. The half of these were, of course, 
females. The males, then, were 1,046,486. The 
children, the aged, the infirm, the sick, made 
a half of these ; so that there were 523,243 left of 
able-bodied men in this whole kingdom ! Now, 
the churches and the religious houses amounted, 
at that time, to upwards of 16,000 in number. 
There was one Priest to every church, and these 
Priests, together with the Monks and Friars, must 
have amounted to about 40,000 able men, leaving 
483,243 able men. So that, as there were more 
than 14,000 parish churches, there were not quite 
twelve able-bodied men to each ! Hume says, vol. 
iii., p. 9, that Wat Tyler had, in 1381 (four years 
after Chalmers' date), " a hundred thousand men 
assembled on Blackheath "; so that, to say nothing 
of the numerous bodies of insurgents, assembled, 
at the same time, a in Hertford, Essex, Suffolk, 
Norfolk, and Lincoln"; to say nothing of the 
King's army of 40,000 (Hume, vol. iii., p. 8) ; and, 
to say nothing of all the nobility, gentry, and rich 
people, here Wat Tyler had got together, on Black- 
heath, more than one-fifth of all the able-bodied 
men in England and Wales ! And he had, too, 
collected them together in the space of about six 
days. Do we want, can we want, anything more 
than this, in answer, in refutation of these writers 



352 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

on the ancient population of the country I Let it 
be observed, that, in these clays there were, as 
Hume himself relates, and his authorities relate 
also, frequently 100.000 pilgrims at a time assem- 
bled at Canterbury, to do penance, or make offer- 
ina's at the shrine of Thomas a Becket. There 
must, then, have been 50,000 men here at once ; so 
that, if we were to believe this pensioned Scotch 
writer, we must believe that more than a tenth of 
all the able-bodied men of England and Wales 
were frequently assembled, at one and the same 
time, in one city, in an extreme corner of the island, 
to kneel at the tomb of one single saint. Mon- 
strous lie ! And yet it has been sucked down by 
, " enlightened Protestants." as if it had been a part 
of the Gospel. But, if Canterbury could give 
entertainment to 100,000 strangers at a time, what 
must Canterbury itself have heen ( A grand, a 
noble, a renowned city it was, venerated, and even 
visited, by no small part of the Kings, Princes, and 
Xobles of all Europe. It is now a beggarly, 
gloomy-looking town, with about 12,000 inhabit- 
ants, and, as the public accounts say, with 3,000 of 
those inhabitants paupers, and with a part of the 
site of its ancient and splendid churches, convents, 
and streets, covered with barracks, the Cathedral 
only remaining, for the purpose, as it were, of 



THE TEIJTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 353 

keeping the people in mind of the height from 
which they have fallen. The best criterion of the 
population is, however, to be found in the number 
and size of the churches, and that of the religious 
houses. There was one parish church to every 
four square miles, throughout the kingdom ; and 
one religious house (including all the kinds) to 
every thirty square miles. That is to say, one 
parish church to every piece of land two miles each 
way ; and one religious house to every piece of 
land five miles long and six miles wide. These 
are facts that nobody can deny. The geography 
tells us the number of square miles in the country, 
and as to the number of parishes and religious 
houses, it is too well known to admit of dispute, 
being recorded in books without number. Well, 
then, if the father of lies himself were to come, and 
endeavor to persuade us that England was not 
more populous before the " Reformation " than it is 
now, he must fail with all but downright idiots. 
The same may be said with regard to Ireland, 
where there were, according to Archdall, 742 re- 
ligious houses in the reign of Henry VIII. ; and, 
of course, one of these to every piece of land six 
mile 3 each way ; and where there was a parish 
church to every piece of land a little more than 
two miles and a half each way. Why these 



354 TRIBUTES OP PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

churches ? What were they built for ? By whom 
were they built % And how were all these religi- 
ous houses maintained ? Alas ! Ireland was, in 
those days, a fine, a populous, and a rich country. 
Her j3eople were not then half naked and half 
starved. There were then no projects for reliev- 
ing the Irish by sending them out of their native 
land ! 

The wealth of the country is a question easily 
decided. In the reign of Henry VIII. , just before 
the " Reformation," the whole of the lands in Eng- 
land and Wales had, according to Hume, been 
rated, and the annual rental was found to be three 
millions; and as to this, Hume (vol. iv., p. 197) 
quotes undoubted authorities. Now, in order to 
know what these three millions were worth in our 
money, we must look at the Act of Parliament, 
24th year of Henry VIII., chap. 3, which says, that 
" no person shall take for beef or pork above a half- 
penny, and for mutton or veal above three farthings 
a pound, avoirdupois weight, and less in those 
places where they be now sold for less." This is 
by retail, mind. It is sale in the butchers' shops. 
So that in order to compare the then with the 
present amount of the rental of the country, we 
must first see what the annual rental of England 
and Wales now is, and then we must see what the 



THE TKUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 355 

price of meat now is. I wish to speak liere of noth- 
ing that I have not unquestionable authority for, 
and I have no such authority with regard to the 
amount of the rental as it is just at this moment ; 
but I have that authority for what the rental was 
in the year 1804. A return, printed by order of the 
House of Commons, and dated 10th July, 1804, 
states that " the returns to the Tax office [property 
tax], prove the rack-rental of England and Wales 
to be thirty-eight millions a year." Here, then, we 
have the rental to a certainty ; for what was there 
that could escape the all-searching, taxing eye of 
Pitt and his understrappers? Old Harry's inex- 
perience must have made him a poor hand, com- 
pared with Pitt, at finding out what people got for 
their land. Pitt's return included the rent of 
mines, canals, and of every species of real property ; 
and the rental, the rack-rental, of the whole 
amounted to thirty-eight millions. This, observe, 
was in time of bank restrictions ; in time of 
high prices ; in time of monstrously high rents ; 
in time of high price of meat. That very year I 
gave 18s. a score for fat hogs, taking head, feet, 
and all together ; and, for many years, before and 
after, and including 1 804, beef, pork, mutton, and 
veal were, taken on the average, more than ten- 
pence a pound by retail. Now, as Old Harry's Act 



356 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

orders the meat to be sold in some places for less 
than the halfpenny and the three farthings, we 
may, I think, fairly presume that the general price 
was a halfpenny. So that a halfpenny of Old Har- 
ry's money was equal in value to tenpence of Pitt's 
money ; and, therefore, the three millions of rental 
in the time of Harry, ought to have become sixty 
millions in 1804 ; and it was, as we have seen, only 
thirty-eight millions. In 1822 Mr. Curwen said 
the rental had fallen to twenty millions. But then 
meat had also fallen in price. It is safer to take 
1804, where we have undoubted authority to go on. 
This proof is of a nature to bid defiance to cavil. 
No man can dispute any of the facts, and they are 
conclusive as to the point that the nation was more 
wealthy before the " Reformation " than it is now. 
But there are two other Acts of Parliament to 
which I will refer as corroborating in a very strik- 
ing manner this fact of the superior general opu- 
lence of Catholic times. The Act, 18th year of 
Henry VI. , Chap. XI., after setting forth the cause 
for the enactment, provides that no man shall, un- 
der a heavy penalty, act as a justice of the peace 
who has not lands and tenements of the clear 
yearly value of twenty pounds. This was in 1439, 
about a hundred years before the above-mentioned 
act about meat of Henry VIII. The money was of 



THE TRUTH ATs T P BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 357 

still higher value in the reign of Henry VI. How- 
ever, taking it as before, at twenty times the value 
of our money, the justice of the peace must then 
have had four hundred pounds a year of our money ; 
and we all know that we have justices of the peace 
of one hundred a year. This Act of Henry VI. 
shoAvs that the country abounded in gentlemen of 
good estate ; and, indeed, the Act itself says that 
the people are not contented with having " men of 
small behavior set over them." A thousand fel- 
lows calling themselves historians would never over- 
set such a proof of the superior general opulence 
and ease and happiness of the country. The other 
of the acts to which I have alluded is the first year 
of Richard III., chap. 4, which fixes the qualifica- 
tion of a juror at twenty shillings a year in freehold, 
or twenty-six and eight-pence copyhold, clear of all 
charges. That is to say, a clear yearly income 
from real property of at least twenty pounds a 
year of our money ! And yet the Scotch historians 
would make us believe that our ancestors were a set 
of beggars ! These things prove beyond all dispute 
that England was in Catholic times a real wealthy 
country ; that wealth was generally diffused ; that 
every part of the country abounded in men of solid 
property ; and that, of course, there were always 
great resources at hand in cases of emergency. If 



358 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

we were now to take it into our heads to dislike to 
have men of "small behavior set over us"; if we 
were to take a fancy to justices of the peace of four 
hundred a year, and jurors of twenty pounds a 
year ; if we were, as in the days of good King 
Henry, to say that we " would not be governed or 
ruled " by men of " small behavior," how quickly 
we should see Botany Bay ! When Cardinal Pole 
landed at Dover, in the reign of Queen Mary, he 
was met and escorted on his way by two thousand 
gentlemen of the country on horseback. What ! two 
thousand country gentlemen in so beggarly a coun- 
try as Chalmers describes it ! Aye, and they must 
have been found in Kent and Surrey too. Can we 
find such a troop of country gentlemen there now ? 
In short, everything shows that England was then 
a country abounding in men of real wealth, and 
that it so abounded precisely because the king's 
revenue was small ; yet this is cited by Hume and 
the rest of the Scotch historians as a proof of the 
nation's poverty ! Their notion is that a people are 
worth what the government can wring out of them 
and not a farthing more. And this is the doctrine 
which has been acted upon ever since the " Reforma- 
tion," and which has at last brought us into our 
present wretched condition. 

As to the power of the country compared with 



THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 359 

what it is now, what do we want more than the 
fact that for many centuries before the " Reforma- 
tion " England held possession of a considerable part 
of France ; that the " Reformation" took, as we have 
seen, the two towns of Boulogne and Calais from 
her, leaving her nothing but those little specks in 
the sea, Jersey and Guernsey % What do we want 
more than this ? France was never a country that 
had any pretensions to cope with England until the 
" Reformation " began. Since the " Reformation " 
she has not only had such pretensions, but she has 
shown to all the world that the pretensions are well 
founded. She, even at this moment, holds Spain in 
despite of us, while in its course the " Reformation " 
has wrested from us a large portion of our dominions, 
and has erected them into a state more formidable 
than any we have ever before beheld. We have, 
indeed, great standing armies, arsenals, and bar- 
racks, of which our Catholic forefathers had none ; 
but they were always ready for war, nevertheless. 
They had the resources in the hour of necessity. 
They had arms and men ; and those men knew 
w T hat they were to fight for before they took up 
arms. It is impossible to look back to see the re- 
spect in which England was held for so many, 
many ages, to see the deference with which she was 
treated by all nations, without blushing at the 



thought of our present state. None but the great- 
est potentates presumed to think of marriage al- 
liance with England. Her kings and queens had 
kings and princes in their train. Nothing petty 
ever thought of approaching her. She was held in 
such high honor, her power was so universally 
acknowledged that she had seldom occasion to 
assert it by war. And what has she been for 
the last hundred and fifty years I Above half 
the time at war : and with a Debt never to be 
paid, the cost of that war. she now rests her 
hopes of safety solely on her capacity of persuad- 
ing her well-known foes that it is not their interest 
to assail her. Her warlike exertions have been the 
effect, not of her resources, but of an anticipation 
of those resources. She has mortgaged, she has 
spent beforehand the resources necessary for future 
defence. And there she now is inviting insult and 
injury by her well-known weakness, and. in case of 
attack, her choice lies between foreign victory over 
her, or internal convulsion. Power is relative. 
You may have more strength than you had. but if 
your neighbors have gained strength in a greater 
degree, you are in effect weaker than you were. 
And can we look at France and America, and can 
we contemplate the inevitable consequences of war 
without feeling that we are fast becoming, and. in- 



THE TKUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 361 

deed, that we are already become a low and little 
nation? Can we look back to tlie days of our 
Catholic ancestors, can we think of their lofty tone 
and of the submission instantly produced by their 
threats, without sighing, alas ! those days are never 
to return ! 

And, as to the fkeedom of the nation, where is the 
man who can tell me of any one single advantage 
that the " Reformation " has brought, except it be 
freedom to have forty religious creeds instead of 
one ? Fkeedom is not an empty sound ; it is not 
an abstract idea ; it is not a thing that nobody can 
feel. It means, and it means nothing else, the full 
and quiet enjoyment of your own property. If 
you have not this ; if this be not well secured to 
you, you may call yourself what you will, but you 
are a slave. Now, our Catholic forefathers took 
special care upon this cardinal point. They suf- 
fered neither kings nor parliaments to touch their 
property without cause clearly shown. They did 
not read newspapers, they did not talk about de- 
bates, they had no taste for " mental enjoyment "; 
but they thought hunger and thirst great evils, and 
they n£ver suffered anybody to put them to board 
on cold potatoes and water. They looked upon 
bare bones and rags as indubitable marks of 

slavery, and they never failed to resist any attempt 
16 



362 TRIBUTES OE PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

to affix these marks upon them. You may twist 
the word freedom as long as you please ; but, at 
last, it comes to quiet enjoyment of your property, 
or it comes to nothing. Why do men want any of 
those things that are called political rights and 
privileges ? Why do they, for instance, want to 
vote at elections for members of Parliament ? Oh ! 
because they shall then have an influence over the 
conduct of those members. And of what use is 
that ? Oh ! then they will prevent the members 
from doing wrong. What wrong ? Why, impos- 
ing taxes, that ought not to be paid. That is all ; 
that is the use, and the only use, of any right or privi- 
lege that men in general can have. Now, how stand 
we in this respect, compared with our Catholic 
ancestors ? They did not, perhaps, all vote at elec- 
tions. But do we % Do the fiftieth part of us ? 
And have the main body of us any, even the small- 
est, influence in the making of laws and in the 
imposing of taxes % But the main body of the 
people had the Church to protect them in Catholic 
times. The Church had great power ; it was nat- 
urally the guardian of the common people ; neither 
kings nor Parliaments could set its power %.t defi- 
ance ; the whole of our history shows that the 
Church was invariably on the side of the people, 
and that, in all the much and justly boasted of 



THE TRUTH A1STD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 363 

triumphs, which our forefathers obtained over their 
kings and nobles, the Church took the lead. It 
did this because it was dependent on neither kings 
nor nobles ; because, and only because, it acknowl- 
edged another head ; but we have lost the protec- 
tion of the Church, and have got nothing to supply 
its place ; or rather, whatever there is of its power 
left has joined, or has been engrossed by, the other 
branches of the State, leaving the main body of the 
people to the mercy of those other branches. " The 
liberties of England " is a phrase in every mouth ; 
but what are those liberties? The laws which 
regulate the descent and possession of property ; 
the safety from arrest, unless by due and settled 
process ; the absence of all punishment without 
trial before duly authorized and well-known judges 
and magistrates ; the trial by jury ; the precautions 
taken by the divers writs and summonses ; the open 
trial ; the impartiality in the proceedings. These 
are the "liberties of England." And, had our 
Catholic forefathers 1 ess of these than we have \ Do 
we not owe them all to them ? Have we one single 
law that gives security to property or to life, which 
we do not inherit from them % The tread-mill, the 
law to shut men up in their houses from sunset to 
sunrise, the law to banish us for life if we utter any- 
thing having a tendency to bring our u representa- 



364 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTAKT WRITERS TO 

tives " into contempt ; these, indeed, we do not 
inherit, but may boast of them, and of many others 
of much about the same character, as being, un- 
questionably, of pure Protestant origin. 

Poverty, however, is, after all, the great badge, 
the never-failing badge of slavery. Bare bones and 
rags are the true marks of the real slave. What 
is the object of government ? To cause men to 
live happily. They can not be happy without a 
sufficiency of food and of raiment. Good govern- 
ment means a state of things in which the main 
body are well fed and well clothed. It is the chief 
business of a government to take care that one 
part of the people do not cause the other part to 
lead miserable lives. There can be no morality, 
no virtue, no sincerity, no honesty, amongst a 
people continually suffering from want ; and it is 
cruel, in the last degree, to punish such people for 
almost any sort of crime, which is, in fact, not 
crime of the heart, not crime of the perpetrator, 
but the crime of his all-controlling necessities. 

To what degree the main body of the people in 
England are now poor and miserable ; how de- 
plorably wretched they now are ; this we know 
but too well ; and now, we will see what was their 
state before this vaunted "Reformation." I shall 
be very particular to cite my authorities here. I 



THE TEETH AXD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 365 

will infer nothing ; I will give no " estimate"; but 
refer to authorities, such as no man can call in 
question, such as no man can deny to be proofs 
more complete than if founded on oaths of credible 
witnesses, taken before a judge and jury. I shall 
begin Avith the account which Fortesque gives of 
the state and manner of living of the English in 
the reign of Henry VI., that is, in the loth cen- 
tury, when the Catholic Church was in the height 
of its glory. Fortesque was Lord Chief- Justice of 
England for nearly twenty years ; he was appointed 
Lord High Chancellor by Henry VI. Being in 
exile, in France, in consequence of the wars between 
the Houses of York and Lancaster, and the King's 
son, Prince Edward, being also in exile with him, 
the Chancellor wrote a series of Letters, addressed 
to the Prince, to explain to him the nature and 
effects of the Laws of England, and to induce him 
to study them and uphold them. This work, which 
was written in Latin, is called De Laudibus Legum 
Anglice ; or, Praise of the Laws of England. This 
book was, many years ago, translated into English, 
and it is a book of Law Authority, quoted fre- 
quently in our courts at this day. Xo man can 
doubt the truth of facts related in such a work. 
It was a work written by a famous lawyer for a 
Prince : it was intended to be read by other con- 



366 TRIBUTES OF PKOTESTAjSTT writers to 

temporary lawyers, and also by all lawyers in 
future. The passage that I am about to quote, 
relating to the state of the English, was purely 
incidental ; it was not intended to answer any 
temporary purpose. It must have been a true 
description of the English, at that time ; those 
"priest-ridden" English, whom Chalmers and 
Hume, and the rest of that tribe, would fain have 
us believe, were a mere band of wretched beg- 
gars : " The King of England can not alter the 
laws, or make new ones, without the express con- 
sent of the whole kingdom in Parliament assem- 
bled. Every inhabitant is at his liberty fully to 
use and enjoy whatever his farm produceth, the 
fruits of the earth, the increase of his flock, and 
the like ; all the improvements he makes, whether 
by his own proper industry, or of those he retains 
in his service, are his own, to use and to enjoy, 
without the let, interruption, or denial of any. If 
he be in any wise injured, or oppressed, he shall 
have his amends and satisfactions against the party 
offending. Hence it is, that the inhabitants are 
rich in gold, silver, and in all the necessaries and 
conveniences of life. They drink no water, unless 
at certain times, upon a religious score, and by way 
of doing penance. They are fed in great abun- 
dance, with all sorts of liesh and fish, of which they 



THE TEUTH AKD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 367 

have plenty everywhere ; they are clothed through- 
out in good woollens ; their bedding and other 
furniture in their houses are of wool, and that in 
great store. They are also well provided with all 
other sorts of household goods and necessary imple- 
ments for husbandry. Every one, according to 
his rank, hath all things which conduce to make 
life easy and happy." 

Go, and read this to the poor souls who are now 
eating sea- weed in Ireland; who are detected in 
robbing the pig-troughs in Yorkshire ; who are 
eating horse-flesh and grains (draff) in Lanca- 
shire and Cheshire ; who are harnessed like horses, 
and drawing gravel in Hampshire and Sussex ; 
who have 3d. a day allowed them by the Magis- 
trates in Norfolk ; who are, all over England, 
worse fed than the felons in the jails. Go, and 
tell them, when they raise their hands from the 
pig-trough, or from the grainstub, and, with their 
dirty tongues cry, " No-Popery," go, read to the 
degraded and deluded wretches this account of 
the state of their Catholic forefathers, who lived 
under what is impudently called " Popish super- 
stition and tyranny," and in those times which we 
have the audacity to call " the dark ages." 

Fortesque's authority would, of itself, be enough ; 
but I am not to stop with it. White, the late 



368 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

Rector of Selbourne, in Hampshire, gives, in his 
history of that once famous village, an extract 
from a record, stating, that, for disorderly conduct, 
men were punished by being " compelled to fast a 
fortnight on bread and beer " ! This was about the 
year 1380, in the reign of Richard II. Oh ! miser- 
able " dark ages " ! This fact must be true. White 
had no purpose to answer. His mention of the 
fact, or, rather, his transcript from the record, is 
purely incidental; and trifling as the fact is, it is 
conclusive as to the general mode of living in those 
happy days. Go, tell the harnessed gravel-drawers, 
in Hampshire, to cry "No-Popery!" for that if 
the Pope be not put down, he may, in time, compel 
them to fast on bread and beer, instead of suffering 
them to continue to regale themselves on nice po- 
tatoes and pure water. 

But, let us come to Acts of Parliament, and, first, 
to the Act above quoted, in 453, which see. That 
Act fixes the price of meat. After naming the 
four sorts of meat, beef, pork, mutton, and veal, 
the preamble has these words : " These being the 
food of the poorer sort." This is conclusive. It is 
an incidental mention of a fact. It is in an Act of 
Parliament. It must have been true ; and, it is a 
fact that we know well, that the judges have de- 
clared from the bench, that bread alone is now the 






THE TRUTH AKD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY, 369 

food of the poorest sort. What do we want more 
than this to convince us that the main body of the 
people have been impoverished by the " Reforma- 
tion " ? 

But I will prove, by other Acts of Parliament, 
this Act of Parliament to have spoken truth. 
These Acts declare what the wages of workmen 
shall be. There are several such Acts, but one or 
two may suffice. The Act of 23d of Edward III. 
fixes the wages without food, as follows. There are 
many other things mentioned, but the following 
will be enough for our purpose : 

s. d. 
A woman hay-making, or weeding corn for the 

day, - - 1 

A man filling dung-cart, 3| 

A reaper, 04 

Mowing an acre of grass, 6 

Threshing a quarter of wheat, - - - - 4 

The price of shoes, cloth, and of provisions 
throughout the time that this law continued in 
force, was as follows : 

I. s. d. 

A pair of shoes, -004 

Eusset broad-cloth, the yard, - - - - 1 1 
A stall-fed ox, - - - - - - -140 

A grass-fed ox, 16 

A fat sheep unshorn, 018 

A fat sheep shorn, 012 

A fat hog, two years old, - - - - 3 4 

16* 



370 TEIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

I. s. d. 
A fat goose, - 2i 

Ale, the gallon, by Proclamation, - - - 1 

Wheat, the quarter, 034 

White wine, the gallon - - - - - 0' 6 
Red wine, 4 

These prices are taken from the Preciosoi of 
Bishop Fleetwood, who took them from the ac- 
counts kept by the bursers of convents. All the 
world knows that Fleetwood's book is of undoubt- 
ed authority. 

But the Popish people might work harder than 
" enlightened Protestants. " They might do more 
work in a day. This is contrary to all the asser- 
tions of the feelosofers; for they insist that the 
Catholic religion made people idle. But to set 
this matter at rest, let us look at the price of the 
job-labor ; at the mowing by the acre, and at the 
threshing of wheat by the quarter ; and let us see 
how these wages are now, compared with the price 
of food. I have no parliamentary authority since 
the year 1821, when a report was printed by order 
of the House of Commons, containing the evidence 
of Mr. Ellman, of Sussex, as to wages, and of Mr. 
George, of Xorf oik, as to price of wheat. The re- 
port was dated 18th June, 1821. The accounts are 
for twenty years, on an average, from 1800 inclu- 
sive. We will now proceed to see how the " popish, 






THE TRUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 371 

priest-ridden" Englishman stands in comparison 
with the " JSTo-Popery " Englishman. 



Popish man. 


No-Popery man. 


s. d. 


s. d. 


-06 


3 7f 


-04 


4 



Mowing an acre of grass, 
Threshing a quarter of wheat, 

Here are " waust improvements, Mau'm ! " But now 
let us look at the relative price of the wheat, which 
the laborer had to purchase with his wages. We 
have seen that the " popish superstition slave " had 
to give fivepence a bushel for his wheat, and the 
evidence of Mr. George states that the " enlight- 
ened Protestant " had to give 10 shillings a bushel 
for his wheat ; that is 24 times as much as the 
" popish fool " who suffered himself to be " priest- 
ridden." So that the "enlightened" man, in order 
to make him as well off as the " dark ages ' ' man 
was, ought to receive twelve shillings instead of 
3s. !\d. for mowing an acre of grass ; and he, in 
like manner, ought to receive, for threshing a 
quarter of wheat, eight shillings, instead of the 
four shillings which he does receive. If we had 
the records, we should, doubtless, find that Ireland 
was in the same state. 

There! That settles the matter; and, if the 
Bible Society, and the " Education " and the " Chris- 
tian-knowledge " gentry would, as they might, 



372 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTAXT WRITERS TO 

cause this little book to be put into the hands of 
all their millions of pupils, it would, as far as re- 
lates to this kingdom, settle the question of religion 
for ever and ever ! I have now proved that Fortes- 
que's description of the happy life of our Catholic 
ancestors was correct. There wanted no proof ; 
but I have given it. I could refer to divers other 
Acts of Parliament, passed during several centu- 
ries, all confirming the truth of Fortesque's account. 
And there are, in Bishop Fleetwood's book, many 
things that prove that the laboring people were 
most kindly treated by their superiors, and par- 
ticularly by the clergy ; for instance, he has an 
item in the expenditure of a convent. " 30 pair of 
autumnal gloves for the servants.'' This was sad 
" superstition.' ? In our " enlightened " and Bible- 
reading age. who thinks of gloves for ploughmen ? 
We have ministers as well as the " dark ages' ? peo- 
ple had : ours ride as well as theirs, but theirs fed 
at the same time ; both mount, but theirs seem to 
have used the reign more, and spur less. It is 
curious to observe that the pay of persons in high 
situations was. as compared with that of the pres- 
ent day, very low. when compared with the pay of 
the working classes. If you calculate the year' s pay 
of the dung-cart man. you will find it. if multiplied 
by 20 i which brings it to our money), to amount to 



THE TRUTH AKD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 373 

91 pounds a year ; while the average pay of the 
Judges did not exceed 601. a year of the then 
money, and, of course, did not exceed 1,200Z. a 
year of our money. So that a Judge had not so 
much pay as fourteen dung-cart fillers. To be 
sure, Judges had, in those "dark ages," when Lit- 
tleton and Fortesque lived and wrote, pretty easy 
lives; for Fortesque says that they led lives of 
great " leisure and contemplation,' ' and that they 
never sat in court but three hours in a day, from 
8 to 11 ! Alas ! if they had lived in this " enlight- 
ened age," they would have found little time for 
their " contemplation ! " — they would have found 
plenty of work ; they would have found, that 
theirs was no sinecure, at any rate, and that ten 
times their pay was not adequate to their enor- 
mous labor. Here is another indubitable proof of 
the great and general happiness and harmony and 
honesty and innocence that reigned in the country. 
The Judges led lives of leisure ! In that one fact, 
incidentally stated by a man who had been twenty 
years Chief- Justice of the King's bench, we have 
the true character of the so long calumniated re- 
ligion of our fathers. 

As to the bare fact, this most interesting fact, 
that the main body of the people have been im- 
poverished and degraded since the time of the 



374 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

Catholic sway ; as to this fact there can be no 
doubt in the mind of any man who has, thus far, 
read this little work. Neither can there, I think, 
exist in the mind of snch a man any doubt that 
this impoverishment and this degradation have 
been caused by the event called the " Reformation," 
seeing that I have, in former Numbers, and especi- 
ally in Number XIV., clearly traced the debt and 
the enormous taxes to that event. But I can not 
bring myself to conclude, without tracing the im- 
poverishment in its horrible progress. The well- 
known fact, that no compulsory collections for the 
poor ; that the disgraceful name of pauper ; that 
these were never heard of in England, in Catholic 
times ; and that they were heard of the moment the 
" Reformation " had begun ; this single fact might 
be enough, and it is enough ; but we will see the 
progress of this Protestant impoverishment. 

The Act, 27 Henry VIII., chap, 25, began the 
poor laws. The monasteries were not actually 
seized on till the next year ; but the fabric of the. 
Catholic Church was, in fact, tumbling down ; 
and, instantly, the country swarmed with necessi- 
tous people, and open begging, which the Govern- 
ment of England had always held in great horror, 
began to disgrace this so lately happy land. To 
put a stop to this, the above Act authorized sheriffs, 



THE TBUTH A1TO BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 375 

magistrates, and churchwardens to cause voluntary 
alms to be collected ; and at the same time it 
punished the persevering beggar, by slicing off 
part of his ears, and for a second offence put him 
to death as a felon ! This was the dawn of that 
" Reformation " which we are still called upon to 
admire and to praise ! 

The " pious young Saint Edward," as Fox, the 
Martyr-man, most impiously calls him, began his 
Protestant reign, 1st year Edward VI., chap. 3, by 
an Act punishing beggars by burning with a red- 
hot iron, and by making them slaves for two years, 
with power in their masters to make them wear an 
iron collar, and to feed them upon bread and water 
and refuse meat ! For even in this case, still there 
was meat for those who had to labor ; the days of 
cold potatoes and of bread and water alone were yet 
to come ; they were reserved for our " enlightened " 
and Bible-reading days ; our days of " mental enjoy- 
ment." And as to horse-flesh and draff (grains), they 
appear never to have been thought of. If the slave 
ran away, or were disobedient, he was, by this Prot- 
estant Act, to be a slave for life. This Act came 
forth as a sort of precursor of the Acts to establish 
the Church of England ! Horrid tyranny. The 
people had been plundered of the resource, which 
Magna Charta, which justice, which reason, which 



376 TRIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

the law of nature, gave them. No other resource 
had been provided ; and they were made actual 
slaves, branded and chained, because they sought 
by their prayers to allay the cravings of hunger ! 
Next came " good Queen Bess," who, after trying 
her hand eight times, without success, to cause the 
poor to be relieved by alms, passed that compulsory 
Act which is in force to the present day. All 
manner of shifts had been resorted to, in order to 
avoid this provision for the poor. During this and 
the two former reigns, licenses to beg had been 
granted. But at last, the compulsory assessment 
came, that true mark, that indelible mark, of the 
Protestant Church, as by law established. This 
assessment was put off to the last possible moment, 
and it was never relished by those who had got the 
spoils of the Church and the poor. But it was a 
measure of absolute necessity. All the racks, all 
the law -martial, of this cruel reign could not have 
kept down the people without this Act, the authors 
of which seem to have been ashamed to state the 
grounds of it ; for, it has no preamble whatever. 
The people, so happy in former times ; the people, 
described by Fortesque, were now become a 
nation of ragged wretches. Defoe, in one of his 
tracts, says that " good Bess," in her progress 
through the kingdom, upon seeing the miserable 



THE TEUTH AND BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 377 

looks of the crowds that came to see her, frequently 
exclaimed, "pauper ubique jacet"; that is, the 
poor cover the land. And this was that same country 
in which Fortesque left a race of people " having 
all things which conduce to make life easy and 
happy ! " 

Things did not mend much during the reign of 
the Stuarts, except in so far as the poor law had 
effect. This rendered unnecessary the barbarities 
that had been exercised before the passing of it ; 
and, as long as taxation was light, the paupers 
were comparatively little numerous. But, when 
the taxes began to grow heavy, the projectors were 
soon at work to find out the means of putting down 
pauperism. Amongst these was one Child, a mer- 
chant and banker, whose name was Josiah, and 
who had been made a knight or baronet, for he is 
called Sir Josiah. His project, which was quite 
worthy of his calling, contained a provision, in his 
proposed Act. to appoint men, to be called ;i Fathers 
of the Poor"; and one of the provisions relating 
to these " Fathers " T\as to be, u that they may have 
power to send such poor, as they may think fit, 
into any of his Majesty's plantations ! " That is 
to say, to transport and make slaves of them ! 
And, gracious God ! this was inFortesque's country. 
This was in the country of Magna Chart a ! And 



378 TKIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

this monster dared to publish this project ! And 
we can not learn that any man had the soul to 
reprobate the conduct of so hard-hearted a wretch. 
When the " deliverer " had come, when a " glori- 
ous revolution " had taken place, when a war had 
been carried on, and a debt and a bank created, 
and all for the purpose of putting down popery 
forever, the poor began to increase at such a fright- 
ful rate that the Parliament referred the subject to 
the Board of Trade to inquire and to report a rem- 
edy. Locke was one of the commissioners, and a 
passage in the report of the board is truly curious: 
" The multiplicity of the poor, and the increase of the 
tax for their maintenance is so general an observation 
and complaint that it can not be doubted of ; nor 
has it been only since the last war that this evil has 
come upon us ; it has been a growing burden on 
the kingdom this many years, and the last two 
reigns felt the increase of it as well as the present. 
If the causes of this evil be looked into, we humbly 
conceive it will be found to have proceeded, not 
from the scarcity of provisions, nor want of em- 
ployment for the poor, since the goodness of God 
has blessed these times with plenty no less than the 
former, and a long peace during three reigns 
gave us as plentiful a trade as ever. The grow T th 
of the poor must therefore have some other cause ; 



THE TKUTH A]S T D BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 379 

and it can be nothing else but the relaxation of 
discipline and corruption, virtue and industry be- 
ing as constant companions on the one side as vice 
and idleness are on the other." 

So the fault was in the poor themselves ! It 
does not seem to have occurred to Mr. Locke that 
there must have been a cause for this cause. He 
knew very well that there was a time when there 
were no paupers at all in England; but, being a 
fat placeman under the " deliverer," he could 
hardly think of alluding to that interesting fact. 
" Relaxation of discipline ! " AYhat discipline \ 
What did he mean by discipline ? The taking 
away of the church and poors property, the im- 
posing of heavy taxes, the giving of low wages 
compared with the price of food and raiment, the 
drawing away of the earnings of the poor to be 
given to paper-harpies and other tax-eaters. These 
were the causes of the hideous and disgraceful evil. 

This he knew verv well, and therefore it is no won- 
t/ * 

der that his report contained no remedy. 

After Locke, came in the reign of Queen Anne ; 
Defoe, who seems to have been the father of the 
present race of projectors, Malthus and Lawyer 
Scarlett being merely his humble followers. He 
was for giving no more relief to the poor. He im- 
puted their poverty to their crimes, and not their 



380 TRIBUTES OF PKOTESTAISTT WRITERS TO 

crimes to their poverty ; and their crimes lie im- 
puted to " their luxury, pride, and sloth. " He said 
the English laboring people ate and drank three 
times as much as any foreigners ! How different 
were the notions of this insolent French Protestant 
from those of the Chancellor Fortesque, who looked 
upon the good living of the people as the best pos- 
sible proof of good laws, and seems to have de- 
lighted in relating that the English were " fed in 
great abundance with all sorts of flesh and fish ! " 

If Defoe had lived to our " enlightened age," he 
would at any rate have seen no "luxury" among 
the poor, unless he would have grudged them 
horse-flesh, draff (grains), sea-weed, or the contents 
of the pig-trough. From his day to the present 
there have been a hundred projects and more than 
fifty laws to regulate the affairs of the poor ; but 
still the pauperism remains for the Catholic Church 
to hold up in the face of the Church of England. 
"Here," the former may say to the latter, "here, 
look at this : here is the result of your efforts to 
extinguish me ; here in this one evil, in this never- 
ceasing, this degrading curse, I am more than 
avenged, if vengeance I were allowed to enjoy. 
Urge on the deluded potato-crammed creatures to 
cry ' No-Popery ' still, and when they retire to their 
straw, take care not to remind them of the cause of 
their poverty and degradation." 



THE TRUTH AXD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 381 

Hume, in speaking of the sufferings of the peo- 
ple in the first Protestant reign, says that at last 
those sufferings " produced good,' 3 for that they 
"led to our present situation." What, then, he 
deemed our present situation a better one than that 
of the days of Fortesque ! To be sure Hume wrote 
fifty years ago ; but he wrote long after Child, 
Locke, and Defoe. Surely enough the " Reforma- 
tion " has led to " our then present and our now 
present situation. 5 ' It has " at last'' produced the 
bitter fruit of which we are now tasting. Evidence 
given by a clergyman, too, and published by the 
House of Commons in 1824, states the laboring 
people of Suffolk to be a nest of robbers too deeply 
corrupted ever to be reclaimed ; evidence of a 
sheriff of Wiltshire (in 1821) states the common 
food of the laborers in the field to be cold potatoes ; 
a scale published by the magistrates of Norfolk in 
1825 allows threepence a day to a single laboring 
man ; the judges of the Court of King's Bench 
(1825) have declared the general food of the labor- 
ing people to be bread and water ; intelligence from 
the northern counties (1826), published upon the 
spot, informs us that great numbers of people are 
nearly starving, and that some are eating horse- 
flesh and grains, while it is well known that the 
country abounds in food, and while the clergy have 



382 TEIBUTES OF PROTESTANT WRITERS TO 

recently put up from the pulpit the rubrical thanks- 
giving for times of plenty, a law recently passed, 
making it felony to take an apple from a tree 
tells the world that our characters and lives are 
thought nothing worth, or that this nation, once 
the greatest and most moral in the world, is now a 
nation of incorrigible thieves ; and, in either case, 
the most impoverished, the most fallen, the most 
degraded that ever saw the light of the sun. 

I have now performed my task. I have made 
good the positions with which I began. Born and 
bred a Protestant of the Church of England, hav- 
ing a wife and numerous family professing the 
same faith, having the remains of most dearly be- 
loved parents lying in a Protestant church-yard 
and trusting to conjugal or filial piety to place 
mine by their side, I have in this undertaking had 
no motive, I can have had no motive but a sincere 
and disinterested love of truth and justice. It is not 
for the rich and the powerful of my countrymen that 
I have spoken, but for the poor, the persecuted, the 
proscribed. I have not been unmindful of the un- 
popularity and the prejudice that would attend the 
enterprise ; but when I considered the long, long 
triumph of calumny over the religion of those to 
whom we owe all that we possess that is great and 
renowned ; when I was convinced that I could do 



THE TRUTH AKD BEAUTY OF CATHOLICITY. 383 

much toward the counteracting of that calumny ; 
when duty so sacred bade me speak, it would have 
been baseness to hold my tongue, and baseness su- 
perlative would it have been if, having the will as 
well as the power, I had been restrained by fear of 
the shafts of falsehood and of folly. To be clear 
of self-reproach is amongst the greatest of human 
consolations ; and now, amidst all the dreadful 
perils with which the event that I have treated of 
has at last surrounded my country, I can, while I 
pray God to save her from still further devasta- 
tion and misery, safely say that neither expressly 
nor tacitly am I guilty of any part of the cause of 

her ruin. 

William Cobbett, 

Protestant Reformation. 



A BOOK FOR EVERY IRISH HOME! 



Tie Household Boot of Iris! Eloquence, 

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BY A MEMBER OF THE NEW YORK BAR. 



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To Very Rev. Gerard Pilz, O. S. B., 

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